Breakthrough
by Sweet Lu
Summary: Deeks comes to terms with what happened on his last assignment and makes a decision that will change his life and Kensi's as well. A multi-chapter sequel to Brotherhood and part of the Atwood Chronicles.
1. Chapter 1

Breakthrough

Chapter 1

...

There was a whisper of rain on the wind blowing through the aspens, the yellow leaves shaking free to flutter down and come to rest in an abstract pattern on the damp dark wood of the deck. He couldn't take his eyes off them, searching them as if reading tea leaves and crazily hoping they might give direction to his uncertain thoughts. The deck was made up of old barn wood Elan had traded for, the roof over it unfinished, the ribs of the honey-colored framework warm against the overcast morning sky. Elan and Soldier had broken off work on it late yesterday when the storm swept in, the sawdust from their work now sluicing down between the boards of the deck. He rubbed the bottom of his fist across the condensation clouding the windowpane, his eyes following Kensi as she hurried into the barn, rainwater dripping from the wide brimmed black hat George had given her to celebrate her graduation from physical therapy.

"They're gonna turn that window into something called a French door," George said from behind him. "Elan said he saw one in Roy's old plantation. Thinks that new porch will give Joe and Diane a little more space and privacy when they get back."

He could think of nothing to say to that, his mind returning to earlier thoughts about the past week and the decisions made.

"Glad you decided to stay on, son," George said softly as he came up beside him. "I know you came back to try and change Joe's mind..."

"I came for Thanksgiving," he said quickly, trying to keep the sadness at bay.

"Talk to me, Marty," George urged quietly, his voice reaching deep into his soul, pulling at the truth.

"He doesn't understand how much I'll miss him," was all he could think to say.

"Yes he does, son. He just wants you to understand why he's doing this."

"I do understand," his voice louder than he intended.

George ran his big hand up his back, gently squeezing his shoulder before letting out a long sigh.

"He wants your blessing."

"Then why didn't he stay and ask for it?"

"Now you're just being contrary," George said, laughing softly.

"He didn't have to hand in his resignation in person," Deeks said stubbornly.

"It's a big move for him, son. He needs to say his goodbyes and make peace with what the FBI did to him."

"Making peace is a ways off," he relied, his anger stirring once again. "They labeled him a traitor. They allowed his wife and son to be terrorized instead of believing in him. They didn't have his back, George, and don't tell me you're not still pissed about it."

"Not so much since he knocked Agent Slater on his ass after the awards ceremony at the bureau," George replied gruffly through a slight smile. "He earned that suspension they gave him, not that it will matter now."

"We didn't even try to pull him off," Deeks said with a tentative grin. "Sonofabitch had it coming. I warned Slater not to ever be in the same room with Joe. The prick should've listened."

They stayed silent while memories replaced conversation. After the meeting at the White House, the bureau had held its own ceremony, awarding Joe with a commendation for what he had done. He'd grudgingly accepted it, but had only agreed to come so he could tell the assemblage of FBI brass and bureaucrats about Oscar Doucet's sacrifice. His own, he'd shrugged off when asked to talk about it.

"Coming back here is the right thing for him and I think you know that," George said.

"And for you?"

"No surprise there, son. I'm getting old," George said softly. "The work's not as easy as it used to be."

Deeks felt his heart tighten at his words. "You're scaring me right now."

George nodded and continued to stare out the window. Deeks began to look closely at him, searching for signs of illness.

"There's nothing physically wrong with me, son, if that's what you're thinking," he said, patting him gently on the back. "I ain't dying, so breathe."

Deeks felt a sudden weakness in his knees as he let out a shaky breath. The thought of losing George was too hard to even think about.

"You never met Joe's brother Chris, but we had plans for when he came home from Iraq," George said wistfully. "He was always good with horses. Had a real breeder's instinct. We would have worked this place together. Not sure Joe has that same feel or really wants to breed horses. He just needs to find out what he wants to do next and being here will give him a safe haven to do that."

"I want him to be happy again," Deeks said.

"Funny. That's what he said about you before he left."

"Some of what happened I just can't shake," Deeks acknowledged.

"You doubting yourself like the old days?"

"What is it about me that draws monsters?" Deeks murmured as if he were afraid to fully voice his thoughts.

"Did you ever think it might be the good in you they see?" George asked. "I think it's what Jürgen wanted to destroy."

Deeks looked up at him, the comment causing him to shake his head with long held doubt.

"Guidry wanted to see himself...and maybe he did."

"You don't really believe that, son."

"People see what they want to see, and my alias made it easy for Guidry. Jimmy Hale came from somewhere deep inside of me, George. That's tough to live with."

"Don't let either man make you critical of yourself, Marty," George demanded softly with a touch of anger. "Who or what they thought you were is not who you really are. You touched something in each one of those sick bastards that made them aware of something they were missing. Men don't like to be reminded of what they've become."

Deeks turned back to stare once again at the scattered aspen leaves and wondered what he had become in the swamps of Louisiana.

"Listen to me, son. Guidry saw something in you he'd lost a long time ago. He'd been dying inside for most of his life and at the end, when he realized you weren't the man he needed you to be, he lost hope. There was no place to run to...nowhere else to go to find redemption. You were his last hope and he knew that. So he gave up. He was ready to die, son. You're not."

Deeks was quiet for a moment as George's words settled deep inside. They had stirred something within him, the memories of his last moments with Guidry flitting through his mind, but he resisted the urge to closely examine them once again. He blew out a long breath, letting go of long held feelings and an alias he just as soon never use again. It was if a weight had been lifted off his chest and he closed his eyes as George gripped his shoulder.

"Don't let him control you, son," George continued softly. "He's been in your head long enough. Leave him to hell where he belongs."

When he looked back out the window he saw Kensi lead an Appaloosa out of the barn and mount up. George noticed her too and grunted.

"You gonna stand here talking to me about a dead man, or are you gonna find out where that sweetheart of a girl of yours is going?" George asked with a smile. "Get on with livin', son. Guidry's the past. She's your future."

Deeks smiled, tentatively at first, but it widened when he saw Kensi urge her horse into a full out gallop, her body bent forward over the animal's neck. He suddenly wanted to race with her, to charge into the future with her beside him.

"You're still here, son."

He laughed and slapped George on the arm as he turned and quickly hurried from the room. He paused only briefly to grab his coat and well-worn Stetson before slamming out the door of the kitchen, startling a couple of the horses feeding on the last of the hay he'd tossed to them earlier that morning. He jogged toward the barn, turning to see which way Kensi was heading before he went inside. She was already to the creek, but she pulled up and swung her horse back around as if looking for him and he lifted his hat and waved it at her. She raised her hand in response before pointing up toward Elan's place. He felt his heart suddenly surge and adrenaline electrified him. He was no longer afraid of the past or of the future and hurried inside to saddle his mare Sheila, who was already kicking the door of her stall. By the time he had saddled her and led her from the barn, Kensi was gone and his breath caught. He felt the cold then, as if there were no sunshine in the world without her. Leaping onto his mare, he kicked her into a loping stride and then into a headlong rush to get to the woman he now knew he needed to fill what was missing in his soul.

Sheila charged across the creek in three long strides, seemingly as anxious as he was. The mare groaned as the trail steepened, her complaint making him huff out a laugh. As they clamored up to the top of the first ridge, a crack of brilliant sunlight appeared, lighting up the hills in front of him. He caught a glimpse of Kensi as she guided her horse over a low rise and then disappeared, and he wondered if she was making a game out of this. Hide and seek on horseback. It made him laugh and it made him feel alive.

"Come on, Sheila girl. Show me you still got some life in those old legs of yours," he said as he urged her along the top of the ridge. "Can't let my ladybird get away."

The clouds continued to break apart, billowing into big white thunderheads scudding slowly across the sky like old-time sailing ships. Warm light from the morning sun caused the grasses to shimmer with the remains of the rainstorm, and layers of mist drifted over rivulets of runoff, the water making its own music as it rushed down through the gullies.

Her trail was easy to follow and he realized she wasn't headed for Elan's after all, even though a ribbon of smoke from his chimney was visible just over the series of small hills that protected his little valley. He pulled his mare up and scanned the horizon for her, and then realized where she was headed and it brought up an array of conflicting emotions.

The overlook up ahead had been the place where he and the men who'd become his brothers had met to thrash out the horrors of what they'd experienced on their last assignment. The massive outcrop of rock had towered over the four of them as they'd released their pain, yelling out their anger until there was nothing left but regret and tears. Finally, it had become a place of reconciliation and ultimately of healing. It was where Joe had convinced him that he held no grudge against him, but revealing that his time spent in the swamps had changed him and that he no longer wanted to be an agent with the FBI. That had brought silence to them all, with understanding from the others, but not from him. He had found himself fighting Joe's decision, and now realized he was being selfish, feeling the need to keep him close, not wanting him to move way out here to Wyoming where he would only be able to see him a few times a year.

A future without Joe close by would change things for him and he wasn't overly fond of that change. Callen had noticed his disappointment and called him on it just before he flew home, asking if he considered him "chopped liver" as he'd put it, reminding him he was his brother too, someone he would see and work with every day. The two of them had forged a closeness during their time under Guidry's barbarous control. Their deep bond remained one of the best things that had come out of the whole assignment, other than finding Joe and the 'saving the country' part. His future was going to be different now and there was one part that was missing, and he intended to change that.

The sun broke from behind a dark cloud and blinded him briefly, so he settled his hat down low over his eyes and pulled Sheila's head up from grazing.

"Come on, girl. We don't want to lose her."

Moist air lingered from the rainstorm and the ground was slippery with mud as he urged his mare up the hill to the overlook. When he caught sight of Kensi's singular form silhouetted against the skyline, he pulled up just to watch. She had pulled her fleece-lined parka tightly around herself, and her hat now hung down behind her back, her dark hair loose and longer than she usually kept it. The softblowing wind caused it to tumble around her shoulders and she absently brushed a strand away from her face as she stared out across the valley below. She was beautiful. She had always been, but today her beauty struck him forcefully, because it wasn't just her physical beauty that held him, but her vibrant strength and bravery as she faced the world. She was his lodestone. He could only hope that he was hers. George was right. She was his future and he had been stubbornly blind not to have acted upon it sooner, fighting against her pull on him for far too long.

He walked Sheila up the last rise of the hill and her horse huffed out a greeting, causing her to turn. She was laughing.

"I win," she called out.

"Don't you always?" He replied, unable to keep from smiling.

He dismounted and trudged up to greet her with a light kiss, taking her hands in his and staring at her long fingers. There had been tension between them before the undercover assignment to find Joe, and he wasn't sure some of that uneasiness didn't still linger with her. For some reason he was having a hard time formulating what he wanted to say and his smile slowly faded.

"What?" She asked, squeezing his fingers and making him look up into her eyes. "Don't tell me you're actually speechless. That would be a first."

"Yeah, no...I guess I am having trouble finding the words to express everything I'm feeling right now."

She looked confused and wary and stepped away from him, dropping his hands as she turned to look out over the ranch. "Does that mean you're unsure how you feel about me now?"

"No...But sometimes words aren't enough."

"They are if they're the right words."

"I'm an idiot, Kens."

"You chased me all the way up here to tell me something I already know?" Her laugh made him smile.

"Touché."

"What's wrong, Deeks? What are you afraid to say?"

"I'm afraid I've lost you," he replied in a choked voice. "And if I have it's because I let you slip through my fingers when I wasn't looking...too stupid to realize there was nothing to be afraid of except you saying no."

"No to what?" Her voice was hesitant and her eyes wide and hopeful.

"I love you, Kens."

"I know."

Both of them sounded breathless as they covered well-trodden ground. A soft gust of wind carried the sharp scent of pine and the comforting smell of wet earth, clearing his head and making him look past her to the rolling hills and the ranch that sat in the valley far below them. Another world. A world he knew nothing about just four short years ago. Now he couldn't picture his life without the world he'd found here. A wide smile came without warning and he felt exhilarated as if there was another world that was new and fresh and waiting just for them. All he had to do was reach for it.

"I want you to be my wife, Kensi," he said, tears clouding his eyes. "Do you love me enough to want that too? Or are you still weighing your options?"

She started to say something, her eyes glistening with barely held tears that she wiped at with her slender fingers. Closing her eyes, she began to laugh softly and he wasn't sure what that meant, but he moved closer and reached for her hand. She ignored it and stepped in closer and placed both of her hands on his chest, leaning up to kiss him softly on the mouth.

"Loving you is not an option, Deeks. It never has been. I've loved you for a very long time," she whispered against his lips. "And I've been waiting for this moment for a long time too."

"Good to know."

"But, I need to know something. Why now?" She asked. "What's changed?"

"I lost myself in that swamp, Kens. At times I disappeared completely into that alias. But it was still me, if that makes any sense. I saw something in myself out there that I didn't want to admit was there. Still don't. Guidry saw it and was drawn to it and I still haven't come to terms with that. I want...I need to leave that time behind me, Kens. I need to find my true self again, and with you I think I can." He offered.

"I'm here for you, baby. I always have been."

The honesty in her eyes gave him renewed strength, and he rubbed his thumb across her cheek and kissed her gently on the lips.

"There were so many times I thought I would be killed, and the only thing I regretted in my life was not marrying you."

"That wasn't the first time you almost died," she responded, watching him carefully.

"Call me a slow learner," he grinned sheepishly, until she turned away. "Kens, please...I'm not sure why this assignment changed things for me. Maybe Joe's decision has something to do with it. He isn't afraid to make a change. Or maybe I'm afraid I'll end up all alone in the darkness like Guidry. That day I got back and saw you...Jimmy Hale just disappeared. You bring out the good in me, Kens. I love you, and I'm tired of this endless game we've been playing. I don't want to just play at life anymore. It's too short. I want to wade into the deep end with you and see where life takes us...and I hope you feel the same way. If not..."

She put the tips of her fingers over his lips to silence him and he saw that she was crying. "All you had to do was ask."

"I'm asking."

"And I'm saying yes."

His laugh was deep and filled with relief and joy, and hers was soft and intimate, and both were brief, their smiles disappearing as they searched each other's eyes, both knowing there were still differences they had to overcome. He no longer cared. Their world could change without warning. He had seen that when she had disappeared in a pile of exploded rubble, practically tearing his heart out. Their lives were always in danger, and they both had come close to death, but none of that mattered if they could face all of it together for as long as they were given. Together they were strong and their embrace seemed to mirror that knowledge and they clung to each other, their bodies losing the tension they'd been living with for the past four months.

"Are we crazy?" She asked.

"Probably. But, it's a good crazy," he laughed. "I've lived through bad crazy and this...us committing to one another forever just seems right."

"But..."

"Shhh. No 'buts' today, Sunshine," he said softly and kissed her deeply, pulling her tightly to him. "Today there are no questions...no problems...no arguments...no differences to work out...just us...alone on a mountaintop looking to the future."

"I was going to ask if you planned on giving me a ring." There was a teasing lilt in her voice, but a hopeful look in her eyes that made him laugh. "Don't laugh. It's tradition."

"Thought you might like to pick one out yourself," he replied softly.

Her arms tightened around him and he felt a deep sense of contentment, finding it hard to keep from smiling. He wondered why he had resisted this moment for so long, but he let that regret fade as he held her.

"You told me once you wanted to get married here at the ranch," she said quietly against his chest.

"Yeah, I did," he replied, his mind flooding with memories of Joe and Diane's wedding by the creek. "But now it doesn't matter where we get married. You decide."

"And you'll go along with anything I want?" She asked, sounding scarily conspiratorial.

"Yeah, no...of course." Wondering what he had just agreed to.

"You sure?"

"Okay, Kens. What exactly did you have in mind?" He asked, stepping back to look at her, trying to look stern until he broke into a crooked grin. "What? A ginormous church wedding? The Marine's Drum and Bugle Corp...or maybe...The Mormon Tabernacle Choir? You want the Pope to marry us on the steps of the Vatican? Or maybe Hetty presiding on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier? I wouldn't be surprised if she's certified to do that, by the way. She's probably a Shaolin monk or something. Whoever, whatever or wherever, Sunshine...I'm there."

"We've got time to plan," She replied as she gently ran her hand up his cheek and into his hair.

"Yeah..." his voice breaking at the thought, suddenly becoming worried that if they waited something might happen.

"Deeks?"

The urgency in her voice snapped him out of his dark thoughts, and he looked up at her. She seemed to understand where his mind had gone and she kissed him, holding his face in her hands when she was finished.

"Nothing is going to happen. Nothing is going to stop us. Nothing. We're doing this, partner. Believe me when I tell you that nothing and nobody is going to keep us from getting married."

That determination he saw everyday on the job flashed in her eyes, her voice strong and firm, and he started to smile.

"You're not planning on carrying a gun at our wedding are you? Cause as hot as that sounds...I think there are rules against that."

"Nobody would be able to see it."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, you're right. We'll just invite the tactical squad."

"In full gear with NCIS emblazoned across their chest? Very romantic."

"You did say anything I wanted," she replied lightly. "They can be the ushers."

"Now you're just scaring me."

"Come on, baby. Let's go tell everybody before you change your mind," she said as she took his hand.

He pulled her to a stop and stepped in to hold her close. "That won't happen, Kens."

She must have seen the truth in his expression because her face softened and became serene, her smile brilliant and breathtaking. Her happiness warmed him and in that moment he found the peace he'd been seeking.

...

…


	2. Chapter 2

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 2_

 **M Rated**

…

They were in no hurry to reach Elan's place, letting the horses crop the wet grass whenever they had a mind to. He stole looks at her as if he had never seen her before, and she was almost shy in her response. He felt disappointed when the cabin came into view, and he could see the same reluctance in her. Being around people right now, even those who were family, would break the spell they were under. Elan saw them and raise a hand in greeting as he walked out of the barn leading his black gelding, followed closely by his son, now almost as tall as his father. Their horses were saddled and Elan was tying a bag of tools to the saddle as they rode up.

"Coffee might still be hot, so help yourself, Cuz," Elan said as he mounted up. "We're gonna try and finish that porch today while the weather's good."

"Fire's still going," Soldier said with a shy smile. "You look cold, Kensi."

Over time, Soldier and Kensi had become close and Deeks could tell he sensed something was different about her today, his expression quizzical as he looked back and forth between them.

"You've got the place to yourself," Elan said, almost smirking, which was unusual for him.

"What?" Deeks asked with a widening smile.

"We won't be back till late this afternoon," he replied. "There's some leftover roast beef in the fridge if you get interested in lunch."

"Mrs. Lovejoy left us an apple pie too," Soldier offered. "It's got sweet crumbly stuff on top."

Kensi smiled at him for that, reminding Deeks of their first connection made over pancakes topped with whipped cream. They both shared an addiction to anything sweet.

"Thanks, kid," she said as she climbed down from her horse. "I promise not to eat it all."

Elan smiled with a knowing look as he turned Crow and headed down the little valley, Soldier suddenly whooping loudly as he kicked his pinto to race past his father. The boy seemed so carefree now, and they watched them until they disappeared behind a stand of ponderosa pine.

"It's good to see him so happy," Kensi said, as he dismounted and led his mare toward the corral. "It must seem like a dream come true after the life he came from."

He had felt the same way when he first came here and he smiled softly at the memories. They were silent as they unsaddled the horses and set them loose in the corral. There was still some hay in the rack and both horses were happily chewing away as they left to walk up to the house. He stopped briefly on the porch to look out at the gentle landscape, wondering if this really was a dream. He felt Kensi bump against him as she passed to go inside and he looked back to see a sexy and very confident smile on her face, so he quickly followed. Shedding his coat and piling it on top of hers, he walked up behind her at the kitchen counter as she got down a couple of mugs, pressing his body against her and gently nuzzling her neck.

"Your nose is cold," she complained with an exaggerated shiver.

She turned to face him, her expression open and carefree, her face glowing and her eyes bright. She looked so happy and he felt a deep sense of satisfaction about that as she brushed her lips across his before kissing the tip of his nose. It made him laugh.

"You want coffee or a snuggle?" She asked lightly as she ran her hand up his cheek and into his hair.

"Can I have both, Sugar Bear?"

"You haven't called me that in awhile," she said with a cute, but curious smile.

"True. Snuggle Bear then."

"Another nickname?" She laughed. "Some things never change."

"I do feel different," he whispered, pulling her close. "We're different."

"How?"

"We're going to be together together forever now, and it's an amazing feeling," he said, kissing her gently, the warmth of her lips causing him to groan with want.

She slowly began to unbutton his flannel shirt and he felt a thrill race through him. As many times as they'd made love, her touch felt fresh this time. Her hand was cool as it slipped inside and rested over his heart, which was now beating wildly in anticipation. He waited to see how far she wanted to go, willing to follow her lead on this very special day.

"So...no coffee then?"

"I want you," her voice husky and seductive.

"And how badly would that be, Sunshine?"

"Shut up and I'll show you," she answered, giving him an exasperated look that only made his smile widen.

His hands rested lightly on her hips, coffee forgotten as she continued to unbutton his shirt. Her eyes darkened and his were drawn to her mouth, mesmerized by her tongue as it darted out to moisten her bottom lip. He quickly pulled her to him and closed his mouth over hers, unable to wait any longer. He felt her hands inside his shirt, skimming over his ribs before moving up his back, cool and insistent, her touch exciting, sending electric chills through his body and down into his abdomen. He had never wanted her more than he did in this instant and he ran his hands down her back and over her enticing ass, finally gripping the backs of her legs and lifting her up and onto the counter. She laughed when they broke from their kiss, gently running her fingers along his cheek and into his hair. They became still, the world now silent except for the sound of their breathing as they stared into each other's eyes. Hers were dark and wide, glazed by tears and he knew he would do whatever it took to make her happy. She was staring at him with such intensity, and his heart fluttered.

"God, woman. You're beautiful," he whispered.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she reached up to hold his head in her hands, slowly pulling him to her waiting mouth. The kiss was electric, warm and deep and passionate. It was if it were the first time. Then they had been tentative, but now he was close to exploding, hungry to touch her, to kiss every part of her body, and to slowly stroke her silky skin until she screamed for him. As if she understood, she began to unbutton her blouse slowly, watching him as he watched her expose the deep valley between her breasts. He ran the back of his fingers over the top of her bra before slipping them under the strap and sliding it off her shoulder along with her shirt. He felt her hand on the back of his neck, toying with his hair as he panted open mouthed until she finally guided his mouth to her exposed breast. She buried her face in his hair as he suckled her nipple, her fingernails clawing into his bare shoulders as she whispered his name. He reached behind her back to release her bra and she let out a throaty laugh as it came loose in his hand. Stripping her shirt away with it, he stared unabashed at her as she sat half naked before him. It wasn't as if he'd never seen her nude before, but now he felt possessive. They belonged to each other now, and he wondered how a simple question could change how he felt about her and she about him. As soon as she'd said yes their love had somehow become deeper, unleashing a part of him he hadn't even been aware of. He wondered if she felt it too, that raw feeling of intensity that had lain dormant until that instant connection brought about by a simple question and a simple answer had caused their world to change.

He lifted her down off the counter and held her as she leaned into him, their bare skin igniting an ever-growing need to be even closer.

"How is it possible that I love you more now?" He murmured into hair.

"How is it possible that I want you more than I ever have?" Her reply sending a flush of warmth through his body.

Her hands began to move over his shoulders and down to his chest, and his fingers entwined in her hair as she bent to run her tongue across his nipple. Her lips were soft and warm and he closed his eyes as her kisses touched lightly on his skin and her tongue teased. He felt her unbuckle his belt and then slowly unzip his pants.

"Don't move," she ordered, a hint of laughter rippling beneath the surface.

Her hand slid inside his boxers, her fingers strong as she stroked him. His breathing became rushed as she pushed his pants off his hip with her other hand and dug her nails into his ass, making him start and huff out a laugh. He was so close. The sensation of her breasts against his body and the constant motion of her hands had him panting, and he turned his head to meet her lips, closing his mouth over hers and groaning as he tried to hold on.

"Touch me," her voice breathless with need.

"I'll explode if I do," he whispered back.

"I'm counting on it."

He uttered a sound low in his throat and lifted her in his arms and in three long strides laid her on the couch. He stood over her as he kicked off his boots and socks and quickly shed his jeans. She had a soft smile on her face as she watched, her eyes dark as she bit her bottom lip. She began to undo the buttons of her jeans and slowly slid them down to reveal pale lavender panties trimmed in ivory lace. He had never seen them before and he smiled, wondering if she had planned this all along. He pulled her boots and socks off while she slid her long legs out of her jeans and lay naked before him, except for the enticing panties. She spread her legs as he knelt beside her, his eyes moving hungrily over her perfect body. She held one of her breasts and reached out to lightly touch his nipple and he bent down and licked the one she offered. Lifting her head he kissed her, getting lost in the heat of it all, their tongues twirling around each other as his hand slipped inside her lace panties and down into the nest of soft hair between her legs. Her breath caught as his fingers entered her. She was wet and her body bucked up against him as his fingers worked to bring her even closer to the edge. He moved his other hand down behind her back and lifted her, closing his mouth over her nearest breast, swirling his tongue around her nipple until he felt her vibrating beneath him. Her hand found his cock again and an electric charge shot through him as she began to stroke it hard.

"Wait, baby, wait," he urged as he rose and moved up between her legs.

He gently pulled her panties down and off and saw that she had her eyes closed, her fingers moving over her own firm nipples and he paused to watch. Finally, he ran his hands up the inside of her thighs, spreading her legs. The touch of his tongue seemed to electrify her and she moaned as he licked her as deeply as he could, tasting her as she came and then entering her as her second orgasm sent a shivering thrill through him as he came inside her.

"Don't stop," she pleaded as she moved against the back of the couch, giving him room to lie beside her.

They turned into each other and he held her, stoking her thigh as he nuzzled her breasts with his lips. Her arms were wrapped around his head and it was warm and comforting as if he were truly home. She draped her leg over his and his fingers entered her once again, gently massaging until he felt her shudder and her tears fall. Being able to give her this much pleasure made his heart swell and he snuggled against her as they both drifted toward sleep. A deep feeling of contentment settled over him as her breathing evened out and her body slackened. He hadn't expected to feel any different after he proposed, but he did. She was his to love and cherish and protect and he knew she felt the same. They were one now, connected as never before, and starting down a path they had never traveled together. And he was excited.

Sleep wouldn't come for him, but he didn't mind, content to watch her breathe as she snuggled unconsciously into his shoulder, her arms pressed against his chest. He reached up and pulled the Navajo blanket down from the back of the couch to cover them, afraid she might get cold. She was a strong and independent woman, but he felt a deep need to protect her and he wasn't sure he should tell her that. As he gently stroked her hair, his mind drifted to the days ahead and wondered how his family and friends would react to their news. He expected to be teased unmercifully about how long it had taken him to propose, but he knew they would all be happy for them. What it would mean for their working relationship, he wasn't sure. The rules were changing in Washington, and what a new SecNav might expect from his agents was unknown even to Hetty. She had warned him before he flew back here, that some regulations about relationships might be tightening, but had told him not to worry, which did nothing to ease his mind. He really didn't want to think about it now, wanting only to bask in the glow of his new reality, to share their happiness with George and the others before they had to fly back in the morning.

Her soft kiss brought his mind back to the beautiful woman beside him, and he smiled as she stretched her arms languidly above her head, before wrapping them around his head.

"I'm hungry," she murmured.

"You're always hungry," he said with a soft grin, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"It's your job to feed me, now," she replied in a whisper.

"Now? I've been feeding you ever since I met you," he laughed. "I could stock a mini-mart with all the Twinkies and donuts I've bought for you over the years, not to mention the ice cream and beer."

"But this time you'll be feeding your fiancé," she said softly before slapping him lightly on his bare butt.

"Yeah…that is different," he said, laughing at her playfulness. "Why don't you jump in the shower while I make my sexy fiancé a roast beef sandwich."

"Okay. Let me up," she said as she tossed the blanket aside.

"Not yet," he replied, pulling her tightly against him. "I need more snuggles."

"Is that all?"

"Sexy snuggles."

He found his arms suddenly pinned above his head as she quickly straddled him, her knees tight against his ribs and her breasts tantalizingly close to his face. She lowered them to his mouth and his tongue licked hungrily at her nipple as he hardened again.

"Shower. Sandwich. Sex. In that order," she said in a deep sultry, but commanding voice. "Don't make me hurt you."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Deeks," her warning plain.

"Okay, I surrender, Sunshine," he said with a cocky grin. "And by the way…you are definitely ready to be back in the field."

She let him go then and stood up beside him, smiling proudly before striding off toward the bathroom.

"You can use all the hot water you want," he shouted after her. "I'll be taking a cold shower thanks to you."

He lay still for a while, allowing himself time to cool down as he recalled the taste of her and the silken feel of her skin.

"Oh buddy…how did you get so damn lucky?"

With that thought he got up and pulled on his jeans, and threw a couple of logs into the dying fire in the wood stove before padding barefoot into the kitchen. He pulled the roast beef out of the fridge and all the condiments he would need, smiling softly to himself and snacking on a few pieces as he made their sandwiches. He was proud of her. She had worked hard to recover from the badly broken leg she'd suffered on their last undercover together. The sudden memory caused him to pause, the fear for her he had experienced all those months ago once again fresh and painful as if it had just happened. They had dealt with some of the repercussions when he'd gotten back from Louisiana, but that dark fear at seeing her buried in rubble still tore at him.

"Hey," her voice caught him off guard and he jumped. "What were you thinking about?"

She was searching his face, knowing somehow that something had upset him. She could always read him, but he didn't want to talk about it, so he simply shrugged his shoulders and cracked a crooked grin at her, hoping she would let it go. Her face softened as she moved toward him, and he turned to meet her. She placed her hands on his chest and smiled before reaching up to brush an errant strand of hair out of his eyes.

"I love you, Marty Deeks," she said, her eyes bright with a sheen of tears. "More than I thought possible. Everything's new now, so whatever you were thinking about is in the past. Leave it there, baby. Just leave it."

"Yeah…no. Good idea," he replied, stumbling over the words.

"I'll finish making lunch while you shower," she said and kissed him softly on the cheek. "I left you some hot water."

"Things are different," he laughed, unable to resist reaching down to undo the tie on the plaid bathrobe she'd appropriated.

"Water's getting cold," she reminded him, firmly closing the robe. "And if you don't hurry and shower I'm going to eat your sandwich as well as mine."

"But then some things stay the same," he said with a grin, giving her a parting kiss as he headed off for a much needed shower.

His head was covered in foamy shampoo when he heard the shower curtain pulled aside and he sputtered and tried to see, but the soap got in his eyes. A towel was shoved into his hands as he blindly fumbled around and he heard her laugh softly as he wiped his face.

"Whatcha doin'?" He asked, finally able to see her settle into a chair by the door, one bare leg crossed over the other and a half eaten sandwich in her hand.

"I needed a little entertainment with lunch," she replied, smiling widely. "Want to demonstrate some of the moves you used as an exotic dancer?"

Her giggle sounded unnatural and he shook his head in amusement. "You aren't gonna let me forget that are you?"

"You bet your sweet ass I'm not," she laughed. "But, I've kept it our little secret for a long time, so now it's time to pay up."

"You're blackmailing me?"

"Make your fiancé happy, or suffer the consequences," she replied before taking a big bite of her sandwich. "

"And what might those be?" He asked curiously as he stepped under the cascading water to wash the shampoo out of his hair.

"Don't make me have to come in there," she warned, tossing the remains of her sandwich in the sink.

"That sounds like a threat, Wonder Woman," he replied as he began to move his hips.

Her smile faded as she watched him and then rose and slipped the robe off and dropped it on the chair. His arms were over his head and he moved slowly and sensuously as she stepped into the shower, biting her bottom lip, her eyes roaming over his slick body as water cascaded over his shoulders and down his chest. She reached for his hips, closing her eyes as she stepped forward and began to move with him. He took her head in his hands and kissed her greedily, and lost himself to the feel of her hands caressing his ass and her breasts moving against his chest.

"These are the sexiest consequences ever," he whispered in her ear.

"It's not like we haven't made love in the shower before," she said quietly as she pulled back to search his eyes.

"But it feels different. We're different. We're gonna be partner partners now. Forever. And that makes all the difference in the world."

…

…


	3. Chapter 3

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 3_

…

The feeling of utter contentment made him lethargic, unconcerned where Sheila might wander as they slowly followed the trail back to the ranch. He was usually the one needing to fill the empty space in any conversation, but not today. Not after this morning. Not after that shower. There were no words to express what he was feeling because he had never felt this way before. Kensi, however, had been talking excitedly since they'd left Elan's cabin. He wasn't sure how much he even heard or might remember, and he felt bad about that, but he was so euphoric he found himself unable to concentrate. He simply watched her and smiled whenever she looked at him.

After their very long and erotic shower, they had curled up on the couch together close to the wood stove and ate massive slices of apple pie that Kensi had topped with generous scoops of Ben & Jerry's Cinnamon Bun ice cream. He should have remembered that sex made her wolfishly hungry, and sweet things made her gloriously happy. If she was happy then he was happy, and the sex had sure as hell made him happy beyond belief. Why the sex was better after he proposed he had no idea, but he wasn't about to question that it was. He had always loved having sex, but making love to the woman he was going to marry and be with for the rest of his life felt like heaven on earth. Every touch was heightened, every kiss deep and full of meaning, and every sound he elicited from her moved him. He wanted her more than he ever had and he suddenly pulled his mare to a stop in the middle of a grove of quaking aspen trees.

She pulled her horse around, a questioning look on her face, which made his smile widen as he swung down and stood watching her. He took off his Stetson and hooked it over the saddle horn, tousling his unruly hair as he walked toward her. He saw the realization strike her and the seductive flash in her eyes aroused him instantly. She sat quietly as he approached, and reached out to brush the hair away from his face as he leaned against her leg. Neither one said anything as he ran his right hand up and over her thigh as his other wrapped behind her back. He gently pulled her from the saddle, her arms cradling his head as he carried her to the base of a multi trunk aspen and set her down. The deep yellow leaves of the grove glowed warmly in the late afternoon sun, the shafts of sunlight cutting between the soft white trunks making everything look magical. He took off his wool coat and spread it on the ground and she laughed softly, her hand sliding over his back as he bent over.

"Hey," she whispered as he stood and turned to face her.

He smiled as he took off her hat and tossed it aside, grabbing the fleece lapels of her dark coat in both hands, pulling her to him and kissing her deeply. He could feel her hands on his upper arms, but he wasn't prepared when she wrapped her leg behind his knee and took him to the ground.

"No fair," he huffed out as she straddled him.

"You didn't hear a thing I said, did you?"

"Wedding plans? I'm pretty sure you were talking about the wedding…a dress maybe?"

"Funny," she responded as her expression took on what he considered a calculating and dangerous look.

"No groom. No wedding," he reminded her quickly, but his silly giggle only made it worse, the vein in her forehead bulging ominously.

"You were thinking about sex, weren't you?" She asked without a smile.

"I was thinking about you in the shower," he confessed softly, running his hands up her thighs until she clamped her hands down on them before they could reach their destination.

"You can't be mad at me for that, sweetums…sugar pie…future wifey," he continued, his voice taking on a pleading tone. "You were so beautiful…"

"And?"

"And sexy…hot actually…way hot. A bazillion degrees hot," he replied, getting even more aroused just thinking about what she looked like with water coursing down between her breasts and dripping from her nipples.

"Wasn't I sexy and hot before?" She asked, using her interrogation voice.

"Yeah, no…of course…" he replied, hesitating as he tried to explain. "It's just that the intensity of my feelings for you have exploded since this morning. You said yes to being my wife, Kens, and that changed something in me. I've never asked any woman that before. I never wanted another woman the way I want you. I never wanted to spend the rest of my life with anyone before I found you. You're beautiful and strong and vibrant. You can kick ass and then be so sexy and make love so tenderly that it blows me away. I can't believe this is happening…that I could be this happy. You make me happy, Kens. Out of my mind happy, and that's why I didn't hear everything you said. I just couldn't stop thinking about you becoming my wife."

Halfway through his attempt to make his case, he saw her face soften and the tension in her body release. By the end her eyes were bright and her lips trembled with a soft, almost embarrassed smile. She leaned down and kissed him, gently holding his face in her hands. He wrapped her in his arms and rolled her over by his side, pulling her close, unable to keep a flash of tears from his eyes. They held each other without words, simply listening to the rustle of the aspen leaves in the gusting wind and the twittering of small birds in the branches above them. Everything about the moment was magical and he never wanted it to end.

"Do you know how much I love making you happy?" She asked quietly. "I love watching the affect I have on you. Seeing you smile or laugh when I say something funny or watch how proud you look when I take down a bad guy…I can never get enough of that, Deeks."

"You are funny sometimes," he said, nuzzling her ear. "But you do tend to laugh at your own jokes, Sunshine."

"You better be teasing or I'm keeping my own name after we're married," she warned, punching him lightly in the chest.

He rose up on one elbow and stared down at her. "I hadn't thought about that. Kick ass Kensi Deeks, ninja assassin. I like it."

"Or…you could take my name. Marty Blye, super special agent," she suggested, cackling loud enough to scare away the birds.

"Put it on the list of stuff we have to make decisions about," he said softly, as he lay back down and rolled over on his back, staring up into the tall aspens.

She leaned over and stared intently into his eyes, the palm of her hand warm against his cheek as she kissed him. How could he tell her he didn't want to think about all that stuff right now? He just wanted to stay here and hold her, to allow the unbelievable happiness he was experiencing to sink in. He didn't even want to tell the others yet, even though he knew they should.

"You don't want to go back to the ranch, do you?" She said.

"I'd rather just be with you for a while longer," he replied.

She curled up beside him, her head over his heart and her long leg stretched across both of his. Entwining his fingers in her hair, he snuck his free hand inside her parka, leaving it resting comfortably on her breast. He had no desire to move, wanting them to stay like this forever, wrapped up in each other as never before, lost in joy and utter contentment.

…

A huff of warm breath from Sheila blew across his cheek and woke him up. He had no idea how long they'd slept, but when he looked up it was snowing. He laughed quietly and shifted himself and then turned to watch Kensi as she slept on, reaching over to run a finger along her jawline.

"Hey," he whispered. "Time to go, baby."

"Sshhh. I'm sleeping," she murmured and snuggled closer.

"Kens…it's snowing."

"Huh?"

Opening her eyes she propped herself up to look around, and a brilliant smile of delight lit her face. They sat facing one another as fat snowflakes drifted down around them, the grove of aspens steeped in stillness as she gently brushed snow from his hair.

"It's beautiful," she said in a hushed voice.

"And cold," he replied, shivering slightly.

"How long have we been here?"

"Couple of hours, I think," he replied, checking his watch.

Rising up to her knees, she put her hands on his shoulders and leaned in to kiss him, her lips warm and welcome.

"You're skin is icy," she said.

"And my butt is wet," he said, but still unwilling to move away from her.

"Guess we should go then," she said, a fog of warm breath escaping as she spoke.

"I love you in the snow," he replied, and then laughed. "You're my snow angel."

"As much as I like the new nickname, you can love me just as much by a hot fire," she said as she got up and pulled him to his feet. "Now put your coat on before you freeze to death."

He laughed and hurriedly did as she said, but his coat wasn't as warm as he'd hoped. She suddenly wrapped him in a hug from behind, pressing her body against him, and he leaned into her, seeking her warmth.

"It's so quiet," she said.

"And peaceful," he added.

"A perfect day."

He turned to face her then, hugging her as tightly as he could, happier than he had ever been. What the future would bring their way he had no idea, so he intended to cherish every moment, eternally grateful to have met her and worked beside her and to finally realize he couldn't go through another second of his life without making her his wife.

Without a word they separated and gathered the reins of their horses, mounting up and pausing briefly to appreciate the beauty of this place, and then turned for home. The snow was falling heavily by the time they reached the low-lying hills above the creek, and it was difficult to see the trail in the dying light. The horses stumbled on the uneven grade as they worked their way down to the creek, the rushing, silvery gray water barely visible against the snowy banks. Deeks raised his head at a shout from the other side, smiling when he saw Elan appear out of the falling snow, his black horse blowing out foggy breaths as it stamped around in a circle.

"You two good?" Elan shouted across.

"We're great," Deeks shouted back, waiting for Kensi to cross before urging Sheila into the rushing stream.

"Why'd you turn off your phones?" Elan asked when they joined him on the far bank, laughing when they simply grinned back at him. "Soldier was worried. Especially when this sudden snowstorm blew in. Practically shoved me out the door to come look for you."

"Why didn't he come with you?" Kensi asked as they started back to the ranch.

"He's making dinner," Elan replied proudly.

"Seriously?" Deeks asked.

"A French recipe Mimi Caron taught him the last time we were in Normandy," he replied. "Pot-au-feu. French for beef stew. We had it in Paris, remember?"

"Don't want to," his reply sharp and Elan nodded his head with understanding.

"Is he making dessert too?" Kensi asked hopefully.

"Kate Lovejoy brought over a big old chocolate cake," he replied. "Of course George asked her to stay for dinner. Those two are real sweet together. Might have something to celebrate one of these days."

"Just might tonight," Deeks said softly.

"Wait…you two…" Elan asked, pulling Crow up short.

"No comment till after dinner," Kensi cut him off and then gave her horse a hard kick and set off at a gallop for the barn.

Deeks laughed and urged Sheila to follow with Elan right on his tail. Passing Deeks with a whoop, he slapped him on the shoulder, making Deeks pretty sure he'd already guessed. Once in the barn, Elan kept looking from one to the other with a wide smile on his face as they unsaddled their horses and quickly rubbed them down in their stalls, leaving each a bucket of oats.

"Hey," Elan said, bumping in between them and putting an arm around each of their shoulders as they walked out. "I'm happy for you. And Cuz…it's about damn time."

"Don't know what you're talking about, brother," Deeks shrugged.

"Wish Joe and Callen were here," he said. "The three of us could really make you pay for taking so long."

"So long to do what?" Deeks grinned cockily. "If I knew what you were talking about I might even look forward to whatever you three nut jobs might come up with."

"You shouldn't," he laughed. "Course I might still be able to talk Kensi into changing her mind about marrying a dumbass like you."

"But then I'd have to shoot you, Elan Hand," Kensi warned, looking formidable and quite serious. "And Deeks wouldn't be able to dress you up in a tuxedo for the wedding."

"Tuxedo?" He sputtered, stopping suddenly. "Wait. You serious? Thought you'd get married here at the ranch."

"Kensi's decision, brother," Deeks responded as he wrapped his arm around Kensi and headed for the house. "You coming? Or you just gonna stand there with your mouth open?"

Elan caught up with them as they stamped the snow off their feet at the front door, the smile back on his face. "She wouldn't really shoot me, would she Cuz?"

"Only if you ruin the surprise announcement," Deeks replied as Kensi walked inside. "You've seen her shoot, right? Even I'm not stupid enough to spoil Kensi's plans."

By the time they got inside Kensi was in the kitchen with Soldier, who was eagerly talking to her and Mrs. Lovejoy about the dish he was making. George and Jim Littleshield were by the roaring fire, both men searching his face for something, making him realize their secret might not be a secret at all. Was he that transparent? He was a seasoned undercover agent and he couldn't even keep a secret from his own family. It was embarrassing.

"You put a scare into Soldier, son," George said, clapping him solidly on the shoulder. "Kept wondering what you two could be doing all that time alone up there at the cabin."

Uncle Jim covered his mouth as he huffed out a laugh. "He was convinced you'd been kidnapped or something, or gotten lost on your way back."

"Neither of us were prepare to have a 'birds and bees' conversation with the boy just yet," George said.

"He knows all about sex," Elan assured them. "Remember, he's been to France a few times with me. And believe me, Lily and Mimi aren't the least bit shy about explaining what a man and woman do in bed."

"Seems a little young to hear about that kinda thing," Uncle Jim said.

"Don't forget the people he grew up around," Deeks said as he turned to look at the boy. "Knowing about making love is tame compared to what he experienced."

"Thought this was going to be a special night, Cuz," Elan said quietly. "Rather not think about that particular part of my past or his."

"Sorry, brother," Deeks said, squeezing his arm.

"Want to tell us what's gonna be special about tonight, son?" George asked with a tentative grin.

"He can't. Kensi threatened to shoot me if I told," Elan said quickly. "Don't know what punishment she'd put Cuz through if he spoiled her surprise."

"Whatever it would be, it might be worth it," he said with a grin and a slight raise of his eyebrows.

"She's a strong woman. I hope she will walk with you a long time," Jim Littleshield said, sounding rather formal. "Time is a gift, Marty. Don't be in a hurry to waste any of it."

"What are you trying to tell me, Uncle Jim?" Deeks asked softly, knowing the old Indian was considered a spiritual leader to his people. Some even considered him a prophet.

"I was married once…long time ago," the old man shared.

"You never told me that," Elan said, looking surprised.

"You had no need to hear it," Jim replied.

"What are you trying to tell me?" Deeks asked nervously.

"I was younger than you when I married. Wild. Still don't know why Elina wanted to be with me," he said softly as he stared into the fire. "She could ride better than most men."

"Better than me," George added. "She was beautiful, too."

No one pressed the old man; they all just waited patiently for him to continue. His face was drawn with sadness and he seemed lost in the past. Deeks had never seen him like this, and he was fairly sure Elan hadn't either. Jim Littleshield had been a constant here at the ranch, a staunch, but quiet supporter since he'd come here. He was ashamed to say he had never asked him much about his life, and Jim wasn't the kind of man who shared easily. So, he was deeply curious as to what he wanted to share now.

"Elina's mother was white. Left when she was three years old," he finally continued. "Her dad was Arapaho. A wrangler. Taught her everything about horses. Not much about love."

Pausing, he reached out to George, seeming to draw strength from their long held connection.

"Her dad brought her to the Rez one day to look at horses. I loved her the moment I saw her," Jim smiled at the memory. "I was pretty damn handsome back then…"

"You were the only two who thought so, Cousin," George said lightly, gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Yeah...I was full of myself, but she didn't care. Her dad didn't like me and threatened to beat the hell outa me if I came near her," he laughed. "Didn't stop us though. We ran away. Got married. First few months were perfect, but she didn't want what I wanted. She was wild too, see. Maybe wilder than me. Her dad had been hard on her. Kept a tight rein on her. Once she was free of him, she didn't want anyone to hold her back. Had no concept of family. Didn't want kids. Told me that, and it hurt."

"What'd you do?" Deeks asked, needing to know.

"I was twenty years old and had no patience. No smarts either," he replied. "Thought she should do like I said. I wanted a son, so I told her we were having a kid no matter what she wanted. She bucked at that like a rank rodeo bronc."

He turned to look straight at Deeks, his old eyes wet with tears.

"I didn't know no better, boy. I didn't have the patience to give her the time she needed," his voice was soft and sad. "She loved me, but I didn't love her enough to understand where she was coming from. I rushed her, Marty, and she bolted. Left me without a word. Never saw her again."

"I'm so sorry, Uncle Jim," Deeks whispered.

"Don't be in a hurry, Marty," he counseled. "Love each other with patience. Your two spirits will come together on the same path when the time is right."

Jim Littleshield wasn't the hugger George was, but he hugged him anyway, and he didn't resist. He was grateful for the old man's story. He'd needed to hear it and Jim knew that somehow.

"Think supper's ready," George said, clapping both men on the back, and they moved to the table.

The meal was amazingly good and they all took turns complimenting Soldier and teasing him a bit about his future as a chef. He looked so happy and Kensi looked incredibly happy for him. He caught her eye just as she took her last bite of chocolate cake and he smiled softly at her, silently urging her to share their news.

"Before we clear the table, Deeks and I have an announcement," she said, excitement making her voice tremble.

"You're gonna get married ain't ya?" Soldier blurted out.

Kensi looked stunned, but everyone else burst into laughter, and Deeks reached over and took her hand.

"If I were you, son, I'd run for my life," Elan warned.

"You just stole Kensi and Deeks' thunder, boy," George said, smiling widely.

"We could all see it on your faces the minute you walked in," Kate Lovejoy said, patting Kensi on the hand before picking up her plate. "Don't blame the boy. He's excited and happy for you."

"Are you mad at me, Kensi?" Soldier asked quietly, the old worried look returning to his face. "I didn't mean to spoil anything."

Kensi smiled and got up to go to him, pulling him into a hug and ruffling his long hair.

"You guessed right, kid. Deeks asked me to marry him this morning and I said yes."

Everyone was laughing and smiling as they got up and came over to hug Kensi and congratulate them both, teasing him as only family can and warning Kensi about what she was letting herself in for. George silenced everyone, holding up a bottle of fine highland Scotch.

"Hetty brought me this the last time she was here. Said it was rare," George said. "Well, this is a rare occasion, so let's get some glasses and toast these two special people and their future together. It may have been a long time comin', but they finally made us all real happy. Themselves too."

Once everyone had a glass, the bottle was solemnly passed from one to the other. Even Soldier was allowed a tiny splash. They all gathered close and raised their glasses with smiles and even some embarrassing tears that the men tried to hide.

"Kensi…We've always considered you family, and loved you as one of our own," George said. "So, here's to making it official and we wish you both a long life of happiness."

Jim Littleshield moved to stand in front of them both and put a rough hand on each of their cheeks and closed his eyes as he delivered a blessing in Arapaho. Deeks didn't understand a word of it, but his eyes filled with tears, grateful and deeply touched by such a rare gift and by the unshakable love of the family that surrounded them.

…

…


	4. Chapter 4

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 4_

…

The crush of people in the terminal at LAX was a shock after the peace and quiet of the ranch. Still, he relaxed completely when Kensi took his hand and pulled him close, smiling at him as he pulled up the handle on his carry-on bag just outside the gate. She had slept most of the way back, snuggled up against his arm, her head on his shoulder. He didn't remember her being as touchy feely as she'd been since he'd asked her to marry him. She couldn't seem to keep her hands off of him, and he had to admit he was enjoying it. It was an unexpected benefit, but then again they hadn't been on the job. She was a consummate professional, and he wondered how their engagement would affect their working relationship. He felt her hand tighten, drawing his gaze to where Callen and Sam stood waiting for them as they followed the other passengers out into the concourse. It startled him and he stopped abruptly, worried something bad had happened, but Kensi moved quickly to give them both hugs. He could see a smirk beginning on Callen's face and realized once again how easily the man could read him.

"You two look relaxed," Sam said with an easy smile. "Kinda cozy, too."

Deeks shrugged and Kensi shot him a warning look as he grinned back at the man.

"You trying to tell us the vacation's over?" He asked.

"Afraid so," Callen said, sounding weary.

"What's wrong?"

"Not here, brother," Callen replied, squeezing his shoulder before turning toward the exit.

"Is Joe okay?" Kensi asked before he could.

"Other than being extremely pissed right now…yeah," Callen said quietly. "Hetty will explain once we get to the boat shed."

"I'm not waiting that long, G," Deeks said, stopping in the middle of the flood of people. "Tell me what the hell is going on."

Sam motioned them to follow him over to a seating section that was virtually empty and they found a corner by the window that gave them some privacy. Kensi still had ahold of his hand and was squeezing it, and her jaw was rigid with tension. He just felt sad that reality had crashed their party so soon.

"With the change in the administration so close, the Attorney General has pushed up the trials for Harrison White and General Rasmussen. He doesn't want Newton Pierce's little terrorist plot to get lost in the shuffle," Callen said calmly. "The attorneys want to prep us before we testify."

"How soon?" Kensi asked.

"We leave for Washington day after tomorrow," Callen replied.

"Shit!" Deeks spit out, his stomach suddenly in knots all over again. "Does Joe have to be there?"

"Why do you think he's so pissed off?" Sam asked.

He turned to look at Kensi and she gave him a soft smile, brushing his hair back before gently cupping his cheek. "It's okay, baby. It's our job. That was never going to change, besides you already testified at the Congressional hearings, and this won't be that different."

"I don't want this to spoil things," he whispered.

"You guys have something to tell us?" Callen asked, the smirk back on his face.

"Buy me a beer first," Deeks said.

"Make it champagne," Kensi said. "I'm not going to let those bastards ruin my mood."

He smiled, her determination reminding him just what kind of woman he was marrying. The sweet, cuddly and incredibly sexy woman she'd been since their special moment on the overlook, had begun to change back into the tough partner he knew so well. How one woman could be all those things still fascinated him, and his smile widened as he paused in appreciation as she took Sam's arm and ordered him to find her the nearest restaurant.

"She seems a little different," Callen said as they followed. "So do you."

"Thought you were supposed to be the aloof one," Deeks said.

"You're not going to tell me are you?"

"I'm the smart one, brother," Deeks laughed and threw an arm across his shoulder as they waded into the flow of humanity that signaled he was back in the real world.

It took them awhile, but they finally found a place that suited Kensi, making their way toward a table in the back by the windows. The sun was almost down and the California sky was a faded lavender, the horizon beyond the planes streaked with orange.

"It snowed at the ranch yesterday," he said wistfully after Sam ordered a bottle of their most expensive champagne.

Callen asked about everyone, including the black Appaloosa George had given him. He was still trying to come up with a name for the big animal and Sam never missed an opportunity to tease him about it, making silly suggestions just to get a rise out of him. As their banter intensified, Deeks looked over to see Kensi studying the menu as if it were a highly classified document, and he knew he wasn't going to be allowed to spill the beans until her appetite was appeased.

"A large order of nachos, please," she told the waitress.

"Are you serious?" Sam sputtered. "I just order a Blanc de Noir from Domaine Chandon and you want to eat nachos with it?"

"In case you haven't noticed before, Sam is a little touchy about his wine," Callen said.

"Nachos are too spicy for the delicate flavor of the wine, G," Sam practically whined.

"I'm hungry and you can't get good nachos in Saratoga, Wyoming," Kensi said, pouting just a bit.

"The woman eats ice cream with beer, big guy," Deeks said with a crooked grin. "Just go with it or she won't tell you the news."

Both men began to smile, and luckily the champagne arrived, making Kensi light up. He tried not to think about the upcoming trial as Sam took the opened bottle and began to pour each of them a glass. He was home. He was with his brothers and the woman he loved was about to share their plans for the future. So, he tamped down the worry that niggled at the edges of his mind and watched Kensi wrinkle her nose when the champagne bubbles popped as she drank to Sam's silent toast.

"What are we toasting, Kens?" Callen asked, even though it was obvious that he'd already guessed.

"Deeks proposed and I was crazy enough to accept," she said, looking so proud and happy that his heart fluttered.

"To the crazy future of Mr. and Mrs. Kensi Deeks," Sam said as he held up his glass. "You are in trouble now, brother."

"The best kind," he replied and leaned over to kiss his future wife.

"I can't tell you how happy I am for you both," Callen said, as he stood up and came around the table to give Kensi a hug. "Not sure what took you two so long."

When Callen turned to him, his eyes glistened with tears, his hug powerful and breathtaking.

"It was always meant to be, brother," Callen whispered in his ear before stepping back. "Joe's gonna be pissed you told me first."

"Actually I told Elan first, but we're going over to Joe's later," he told him. "He's already pissed. Maybe our news will take his mind off all the shit we'll be reliving in Washington. At least for a little while."

"There's time enough to think about that," Callen said. "But right now, let's celebrate. Pass the nachos, Kens."

"Why do I associate with you Neanderthals?" Sam said, shaking his head in derision.

"Cause you want to be in the wedding, that's why," Kensi said, her words muffled by a mouthful of cheesy nachos.

"You're right. I better be," he replied. "Who's gonna be your best man, Deeks?"

The question caught him off guard, and Deeks choked on the sip of champagne he'd just swallowed. He hadn't even thought about that kind of detail and both men immediately knew it and laughed.

"Let the games begin," Sam said, holding up his glass in a toast. "It ain't gonna be easy, but the bribes might be interesting."

He saw a wistful look on Callen's face, but he hid it quickly behind his signature smirk. His brothers' faces passed quickly through his mind and he honestly had no idea who he should ask to be his best man. He loved each one of them. How the hell was he supposed to choose one over the other? He glanced over at Kensi, hoping for some help, and all he got was a shrug of her shoulders and an expression of understanding and love, but no answers.

"You're no help," he said as she smiled sadly at him.

"Hey…I've got my own decisions to make, sweetheart. A lot more than you," she said as she lifted a loaded tortilla chip toward her mouth. "You're on your own on this one."

"This is gonna be fun to watch," Sam said, laughing smugly as he sipped his champagne.

"Well, as fun as all this is, Hetty is expecting us at the boat shed," Callen said and stood up. "And you know how limited her patience is."

"Probably had Eric report exactly the minute your plane touched down," Sam added as he waved at the waitress for the check.

"I just hope she doesn't have the ranch house bugged," Deeks joked, but his smile faded as he considered the possibility. "You don't think she'd do that, do you?"

"It's Hetty. Nothing's out of the realm of possibility," Sam said as he left money for the check.

"So, she probably already knows you proposed," Callen teased.

"This isn't funny, man," Deeks responded, growing just a little bit angry that it might be true.

"Lets go find out, shall we?" Callen said, giving Deeks a push toward the exit.

…

As they caught the 405 north, Callen called them with a change in plans. The meeting was now taking place at Hetty's house in the hills and included dinner and a surprise guest. They had all become accustomed to the woman's penchant for catching them unawares, but inviting them to her house for dinner was something new, and it made Deeks suspicious.

"Do you think she knows?" He asked.

"Would you be surprised if she did?"

"No, not really," he replied, although he had been looking forward to surprising her this time.

"Do you think it will change things at work?" Kensi asked, showing a little of the nervousness she'd been trying to hide.

"You mean will she reassign one of us?" He asked quietly. "Or make us change partners?"

Instead of answering, she reached for his hand and turned to stare out at the passing traffic.

"I don't think she would invite us to dinner to tell us that, Kens," he replied, trying to give her some assurance, even if he wasn't feeling any himself.

"Can we just turn around and fly back to Wyoming?" She asked. "We could get married on the overlook where you proposed."

"Sure. Then, you can get a job as a personal trainer or work at a gun range. Plenty of those in Wyoming," Deeks said, grinning to try and lighten her mood. "And I could become the new sheriff in town. You know, make everybody feel safe, flirt with all the ladies and grab a beer once in awhile with the local hardasses. It'll be fun. Boring as hell, but yeah…we could do that."

"I don't want to lose you as my partner, Deeks."

"Okay…you can be a sheriff, too. We'll ride through Saratoga side by side, our guns low on our hips, handing out parking tickets and arresting drunks on Saturday night," he said, smiling cockily and finally getting a laugh out of her.

"You are sexy on a horse, Deputy Sheriff Deeks," she said. "But I'm afraid I won't accept any position other than High Sheriff."

"You don't want that, Kens," he replied, suddenly serious. "You're a federal agent. One of the best. Let's just see what happens. Whatever it is, we'll face it together."

He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, but the worry remained for both of them. As happy as they had been over the last forty-eight hours, their decision muddied the waters. Until they had assurances from Hetty and from whoever the new SecNav was, they would just have to learn to live with the uncertainty.

"No matter what, baby. We're getting married," he said, and in the darkness of the car he saw her eyes glisten with unshed tears as she nodded firmly back at him and squeezed his hand.

He followed Sam off the freeway and turned up into the hills of Bel Air. As they wound through the streets old memories crowded in and when they pulled into her driveway he was struck by a mix of emotions. He'd spent time here cataloging some of Hetty's many collections after hyper-extending his knee in a surfing accident. She'd been very kind during his stay and had shared a few personal stories about her life that now made him smile. She was an extraordinary woman with refined and unique taste. Her varied collections were rare and intriguing, some even a little bizarre, making him aware of just how complex the tiny woman was. His stint had ended when one of Hetty's old Russian acquaintances had tried to kill her, and he'd been shot while saving her. He hadn't been back since, but he remembered how much he'd enjoyed his stay before all the fireworks let loose.

The garden lights were on and she greeted them as they walked up the stone path to the door.

"Ms. Blye. Gentlemen. Welcome," she said, ushering them inside. "Mr. Deeks, the layout should be familiar, so please show everyone to the dining room. Mr. Hanna, there's a very fine bottle of prosecco chilling, of which I'm sure you'll approve. And Mr. Callen, I didn't forget your love of Belgian beer. I assumed you'd all be hungry, so I asked our guest to cook up one of his specialties. I'll just go check on him."

"Tell Roy hello," Callen called out after her, getting a scowl as she turned back to stare at him.

"How did you know?" She asked pointedly.

"Easy. Smelled the Cajun spices," he replied, earning a grunt from his boss.

"He better not be serving grits with it," Deeks commented sourly.

"No grits, dickwad. Just cornbread," Roy Blanchard snarked as he walked in carrying a huge tureen that he placed on the table.

Deeks felt a warm rush of emotion at the sight of the man, and cracked a crooked grin as he stepped forward to shake his hand. The older man pulled him in for a quick hug, and a look of understanding passed between them. They hadn't hit it off the first time they met in New Orleans, but by the end of the operation to save Joe, a strong bond had developed between the two.

"Y'all look a hellava lot better'n when I saw ya last," he said as he shook Callen's hand.

"And you look as ugly as ever," Deeks said, grinning madly.

"Hetty tells me you're gettin' married, kid. Now who in the hell would be crazy enough to marry a wiseass like you?" Roy asked.

"Seriously, Hetty?" Deeks said, shaking his head along with the others.

"That information was given in the strictest of confidence, Mr. Blanchard," Hetty said, looking quite irritated.

"Ya didn't tell me it was a state secret," Roy drawled out, not looking even slightly sorry.

"There are no secrets with Hetty," Kensi said as she held out her hand to the man. "Hi again. I'm the crazy woman marrying Deeks."

"Thought ya might be, darlin', since you're the only other woman in the room," Roy replied, smiling softly. "He's one lucky smartass, Kensi."

"Tell me you didn't bug George's house, Hetty," Deeks said, feeling a surge of anger. "That's a bit low even for you, don't you think?"

"Deeks," Callen warned, reaching out to catch his arm.

"Your opinion of me seems to have slipped since last we talked, Mr. Deeks," she replied calmly. "Let's just say I surmised it, and leave it at that. And just to clear the air…there are no listening devices in George's home."

"Let it go, kid. Don't forget, she was in your ear when you were drugged to the gills and interrogated," Roy reminded him.

The comment shook him, and painful memories flooded his mind. Callen had a firm grip on his arm as his eyes flushed with tears. He stared at Hetty, recalling the calm voice he had clung to in the dark, tied down so he couldn't escape his relentless torturers, his mind muddled by powerful drugs.

"I'm sorry, Hetty. You didn't deserve that," he whispered.

"And you didn't deserve what Harrison White and the others did to you," Hetty replied.

"How about we eat, kid," Roy suggested gently. "Jambalaya ain't as good when it's cold."

Kensi rubbed her hand up and down his back, and Callen squeezed his shoulder as he took his seat in one of the thickly upholstered chairs, embarrassed by his lapse in judgment. Sam began pouring the prosecco as Roy ladled out heaping helpings of spicy smelling Jambalaya. Callen was beside him, but his solid presence only brought back more of the memories he was fighting to escape. The smell of the food, and Roy's soft southern drawl drew him back into the nightmare of an op and he suddenly stumbled to his feet, excusing himself as he bolted from the room. He rushed outside seeking fresh air and reality, but old anger sullied the attempt. The pool shimmered pale blue and he walked resolutely down the steps toward it as his heart pounded in his chest. He breathed in deeply, welcoming the sharp smell of chlorine as he tried to steady himself and clear his head.

"Want to talk?" Kensi asked quietly from behind him.

"Not really."

"You never told me about the interrogation," she said as she entwined her fingers with his.

"But I'm betting you read the reports," he snapped, but was immediately sorry for the bitter accusation.

"No, Deeks, I didn't," she replied softly as she stepped in front of him. "Look at me, baby. I'm here for you, so don't shut me out or I'll throw you in the pool."

"Seriously?" He asked with a flicker of a smile.

"Yes, seriously."

"You don't need to know all that stuff, Kens," he said, looking away from her. "It's embarrassing."

She moved so fast he had no time to react, and he found himself flying off the edge of the pool and into the water. He sputtered out a mouthful of water as he surfaced, and looked up to see her standing with her hands on her hips and a smug look on her face. He realized his anger was gone, along with the suffocating memories and he huffed out a laugh.

"You couldn't resist, could you?" He asked, grinning along with her. "Coming in?"

"No. I'm hungry. I'm going back inside to eat Jambalaya," she replied, but hesitated. "No secrets between us, Deeks. Especially not the terrible ones that mess with your head. I promise not to keep anything from you, but you have to promise the same. When you're ready, I want you to tell me all of it."

Not waiting for an answer, she turned and headed back to the house, while he continued to tread water. The cool water felt good. Clean and fresh and he laid on his back and floated, looking up into the black, starless sky.

"You're safe, buddy," he said softly to himself. "You're getting married to an incredible woman who just threw you in a pool because she loves you. Thank all those stars you can't see, because you are one lucky sonofabitch."

He tugged his tee shirt off and tossed it up on the patio, followed by his jeans, shoes and socks. Taking a deep breath, he turned and began to swim. He did three full laps before he noticed Hetty standing at the end just when he flipped over to start another lap. He stopped and gripped the edge, waiting for one of her enigmatic reprimands, but she simply waved for him to continue, so he cracked a cocky grin and flipped over and began another lap. After doing two more, he stopped and found her sitting by the side of the pool in the same chair she was in the day he saved her life.

"Feel better now?" She asked as he walked up the steps of the pool, his soaked boxers sagging low on his hips.

She tossed him a large towel and settled back in the comfy lounge chair, staring out across the pool. He was unsure what to say to make up for his rude comment so he remained silent, knowing she wouldn't have come out here if she didn't have something to say.

"I want you to know I will do my best to protect you and Kensi after you marry," she said softly, the comment surprising him. "It is my intent that you remain partners, but I must warn you, that decision may well be out of my hands. I've heard rumors about who might be appointed as the new SecNav. He's a man I've never seen eye to eye with. Stubborn. Contrary. An old school patriot who's full of himself. To put it bluntly…he's a prick, and not a very bright one at that. If he is appointed, he won't make things easy on me or on Ops. He may even terminate my services or close us down."

"So you're telling me we should be looking into other options," Deeks said, shocked and saddened that the home he had found at Ops might be pulled out from under them.

"It always pays to be prepared for the worse, Mr. Deeks," she replied. "I didn't want you to hear it from someone when you're in Washington. I will leave it to you to tell your fiancé."

"She's a great agent, Hetty," he said as he slumped into an adjacent chair. "She'd be an asset to any federal agency."

"As would you, Mr. Deeks," she said, turning to look at him. "Especially after Louisiana. What you and Mr. Callen did to protect this country has not gone unnoticed. Inquiries have already come in asking about your services."

"So now were hired guns?" He asked wearily.

"I wouldn't do that to either one of you, Mr. Deeks," she replied softly. "But you will have options. I just can't promise that you and Ms. Blye will be offered positions together."

"I don't want to tell her that, Hetty," he said quickly. "She's so happy and making wedding plans. How can I spoil all that for her?"

"That's your decision, I'm afraid," she replied. "I'm sure you'll make the right one. But don't underestimate your partner, Mr. Deeks. You'll need each other to get through whatever is coming. I believe George told you this once. Love is a powerful thing."

…

…


	5. Chapter 5

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 5_

…

He felt rushed. In fact the whole trip seemed rushed and it annoyed him. But, it had been the look in Kensi's eyes that made him agree to go ring shopping on the one day they had before he flew back to Washington. She had mentioned it in bed the night before and he had brushed her off, his mind preoccupied with the upcoming trials. Her dejected reaction hit him hard and he had quickly tried to make her understand, telling her they should wait until he got back, when they would have more time. His excuse and his perfectly rational reasoning did nothing to take the hurt from her eyes. When she'd turned away from him and said goodnight, he caved, promising to take her to whatever stores she wanted to go to. Her sudden enthusiasm made him laugh and forget about everything else, at least until she snuggled against him and fell asleep. Memories of predatory vultures surrounding him in the dark kept him awake well into the night.

The brightness of the light irritated him as they walked along Wiltshire in Sandra Monica, dodging tourists and rushing office workers headed back to work after lunch.

"Are you listening?" She asked as he yawned sleepily.

"Always, Sunshine."

"You used to be a better liar," she replied. "Now tell me what I just asked you about."

He went with the obvious. "Engagement rings?"

She stopped and pulled him around to face her, taking his hands in hers as she stepped closer.

"I asked about the nightmare you had last night," she said softly. "Want to tell me about it?"

"No," he said bluntly. "I really don't remember any details, and besides we're shopping for an engagement ring, Kensalina, and that's much more important."

"No it isn't, baby," she said, laying her hand gently along his cheek. "You're more important to me than any ring. Don't you know that?"

"We're in the middle of a busy sidewalk, Kens," he said. "Not the ideal place to let my demons fly."

She kissed him softly and took his hand and began pulling him toward a Starbucks down the block. He wasn't overly fond of their coffee, but she was determined and he didn't want to fight. The lunch rush was over, so it wasn't terribly crowded, and they managed to find a table in a back corner. She left him there and got in the short line to order, her eyes flicking back over to him every few minutes. He knew she wouldn't let him get out of sharing the nightmare that had given him chills and cold sweats, but he sifted through what he remembered, editing what he would say, if he said anything. He began to realize he had pushed the memories of his interrogation on board Newton Piece's boat down deep, along with the heavy guilt he still carried from having to stand by and watch Guidry butcher Eliot Dale. Having to dredge that all up for court would be hard enough, but to share any of it with Kensi would be much worse.

"One soy milk latte," Kensi said softly as she sat down across from him.

"I see you got the one with all the whipped cream," he said with a crooked smile, trying to stay calm as he sipped his latte.

"You're not charming me out of this, Deeks," she said, leaning in close to brush his hair back. "Now, tell me what had you thrashing all over the bed and cussing last night?"

"I guess I'm just worried about having to go over it all again at trial."

"Deeks…you shouted out a woman's name, and called her a slut, among other things," she said. "Was that the attorney from the DOJ Tax Division?"

"I don't remember doing that," he replied anxiously. "I'm sorry."

"For what, baby?"

"A fiancé isn't supposed to called out another women's name in his sleep," he replied cockily.

"Why don't you want to tell me what happened?" She asked, the hurt apparent in her voice. "I thought we agreed we wouldn't keep secrets."

"This isn't a damn secret, Kens," he snapped back. "It's an embarrassing part of the assignment that's going to be brought out in open court."

"You were drugged, baby. You had no control over what they did to you," she said earnestly as she took his hand and squeezed. "If you can't tell your fiancé, how are you going to talk about it in court?"

"Not here, Kens…I can't tell you here…it's too..," he yanked his hand free from her grasp and stumbled to his feet. "It'll spoil the day, Kens, and I don't want to do that."

She stood up and nodded her head and led him out the door. When they got outside, she gripped his hand in hers and began walking in the direction of the beach. He caught a glimpse of the ocean a few of blocks up, and a smile flickered the closer they got. She knew him well, but not even the sea would be able to quell his growing anxiety about sharing what still haunted him.

"This was supposed to be your day, Kens," he said softly as they crossed the street to the beach promenade.

"And this is what I want to do," she replied, locking arms with him and bumping against him. "It's important, Deeks, and you obviously need to talk about what's bothering you."

"Why's that?"

"You know why. If you don't deal with it, it festers," she said. "That's why you're still having nightmares."

"I talked to Callen and Elan, and Joe when he would listen," Deeks said. "Isn't that enough?"

"Apparently not."

He stopped as they reached the edge of the wide stretch of beach, staring at the Santa Monica pier until she stepped in front of him.

"I'm not going to judge you, baby," she whispered. "I love you."

He couldn't look at her, afraid she might somehow be able to see inside of him. Since hearing the trials had been pushed forward, the darkest moments of his time with The Brotherhood had exploded in his mind, all of it crowding in, tumbling over and over until he wanted to scream. He constantly fought to keep that hidden, but he realized he was with a woman who knew all of his tricks and wouldn't be fooled, or want to be.

"Feel like getting your toes wet?" She asked. "Cause I do…and it's my day, right?"

Her question surprised him and he looked at her and nodded, managing to give her a soft smile. Maybe she would let it go and they could just have a peaceful moment walking hand and hand along the beach. She looked happy. Calm. Then he realized her tactic and shook his head at how easily she was able to play him.

They made their way across the sand listening to the shouts of kids and weaving past couples stretched out on towels spoiling for sunburns. There weren't many people in the water, just a few twelve-year-olds pushing and shoving each other into the foaming surf, while the real surfers were further up the beach working on their moves. They walked along the edge of the wet sand listening to the cries of the gulls and he turned to watch her as she looked out toward the horizon.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Then take off your shoes and socks, surfer boy," she laughed. "Lemme see those long, sexy toes."

"You think my toes are sexy?" He asked, stopping to pull her to him.

"All your body parts are sexy," she replied.

"What about my armpits?"

"Sexy," she pronounced with a firm nod and a smirk.

"Really?" He laughed. "Even after a long run when they're all sweaty and smell like dirty socks?"

"Just gives me an excuse to get you in the shower," she said. "And you're incredibly sexy in the shower."

"So you like me naked and wet."

"Oh, yeah."

"Good to know," he responded as he leaned in to kiss her, reaching up to hold her face in his hands.

He felt his earlier irritation fade. She was his home and the fear of opening up to her slid away and he felt the warmth of the sun for the first time that day. She was as much of a haven as the ranch in Wyoming, but she was the one he walked beside every day and slept beside every night. He sensed no wavering in her, or fear either, only a deep determination to support him and he pulled back to look at her.

"You're not afraid of anything, are you?" He breathed out.

"Deeks…I was afraid every minute you were in Louisiana," she confessed. "We argued so much during our op, and I worried it would make you lose concentration. It scared me to death when you were shot, and I know you suffered a lot more than anyone will tell me, you included. If I had lost you..."

"You didn't. None of that stuff matters now, Kens. I'm here. We're shopping for rings. We're getting married."

"It does matter, baby. It does. Don't you think I can see how much it's tearing you apart?" She asked, stroking his cheek as she spoke.

"I'm fine, Kens," he insisted. "It's just a few nightmares."

"If you're fine, then tell me about them," she said firmly, settling down cross-legged in the sand, pulling him with her.

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" he asked uneasily.

"No, Deeks, I'm not," she replied. "Now take off your shoes and socks."

"And why do I need to do that? I thought we were just talking."

"Because if you stop talking, I can tickle your feet until you start again," she said with a wide smile.

"Seriously? That's your interrogation technique?"

The silliness of it made him laugh and wonder how he could even begin to talk about his real interrogation at the hands of Harrison White and Doc Mouton. Looking up, he saw her studying him, her eyes warm and caring and he knew she was trying to make their conversation seem less daunting. He nervously ran his hand up to fiddle with the hair at the base of his neck as he let the memories slowly slip out where he could grasp them. She didn't press, just held his other hand and rubbed her thumb back and forth across his palm. It was soothing, her presence calming. He huffed out a small laugh and untied his shoes, sliding them off along with his socks. He put them aside, his bare feet making him feel vulnerable for some reason.

The shadow of a low flying gull startled him and he flinched, his nightmarish vision of circling vultures returning like whispers of the past.

"I don't know where to start, Kens," he said.

"What made you flinch just now?" She asked softly.

"Vultures. I see vultures in my dreams. All around me," he began haltingly. "The funny thing is, I'm one of them."

"Why would that be?"

"Those people were all sick bastards. Voyeurs. Hovering over me. Watching me struggle. Watching their bodyguards beat the crap out of me, and not giving a shit. I pleaded for them to believe I was really Jimmy Hale. I was so strung out on the drugs they pumped into me, I was babbling out nonsense about Chinese food. Pierce called me an ill-bred punk and that's what I had to be. A dumb fuck."

His voice became raw as he talked, but she seemed to know he was skirting something, and she raised his hand to her lips and gently kissed the back of his fingers, her dark eyes boring into his as if willing him to tell her everything.

"Jacqueline wanted me…wanted Jimmy Hale. She wanted to fuck me and after they tied me down she did, with that sonofabitch Pierce's help. That's when I saw the vultures. The drugs were roaring through me then and I was so afraid I'd break cover and get Callen killed…If Hetty hadn't been on comms I might have."

"But why did you say you were one of the vultures in your nightmare?" She asked, as he gripped her hands tightly in his.

"Because after that…after I got back to the camp…that's exactly how I felt when Guidry sliced Eliot Dale to ribbons right in front of me," he replied, his voice so low she had to lean close to hear. "I just stood there and watched, Kens. I let him butcher the man without raising a finger to stop him. I was a vulture, waiting for him to die…wanting him to die…quick…so I could get off that platform…get away from the horror of it. I can still hear his screams. How do I get that out of my mind? I wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up. What kind of person does that make me, Kens?"

She brushed a tear from his cheek and moved closer, pulling his head down onto her shoulder as he was overcome with anguish.

"It doesn't make you like them, Deeks," she whispered. "You know what would have happened if you'd tried to save him."

"Yeah…I know. But that doesn't make it any easier to live with," he choked out as he sat back and stared out at the pounding surf.

"What did Callen say? You told him this, right?"

"He reminded me that it was Eliot who dug into Joe's backstory and discovered he was FBI," said softly. "I know the man was a sonofabitch and a traitor, and deserved to be punished…but not like that, Kens. Not like that."

"That wasn't you're decision, Deeks. It was Guidry's."

She spoke the words in her agent's voice and he turned to look at her. She had that expression she wore after every firefight, her eyes clear and her jaw firm. She held no regrets about what they had to do on the job and she was trying to get him to acknowledge that he shouldn't either. But then, she hadn't been there. She hadn't witnessed the raw, terrifying violence of Eliot's brutal death. None of them had.

"It's the trial isn't it? That's what brought it all back," she said. "Maybe once you testify it will clear your mind and you can leave it all behind."

"God, I hope that's true," he replied.

"Whether that happens or not, I'm here for you, partner," she said, reaching up to brush back his tangled hair. "I'll be your wife soon and we'll deal with whatever comes, together. Okay, baby?"

"You still want to become Mrs. Deeks?" he asked shyly.

"Only if you buy me an engagement ring," she said, getting up and brushing off the sand. "Don't think I'm going to let you get out of doing that today."

"I wouldn't want you to, Sunshine," he said, grateful for the change in subject.

"Tiffany's isn't far," she hinted, smiling at the shocked look he couldn't hide.

"I thought we agreed on Jack's?" He replied nervously. "I know the guy. I worked a robbery there when I was a rookie patrolman. He told me to come back for a good deal when I got engaged."

"Sounds good," she said, mussing his already windblown hair before ordering him to put on his shoes so they could go look at rings.

He caught her excitement and let all the dark memories fade back into the shadows. He wanted to think about something else, to be distracted from the painful visions in his mind. He wanted to watch her pick out a ring. He wanted to see her happy. So he followed her back to the promenade, breathing a little easier as he focused his thoughts on her joy and their future.

As they approached Jack's Jewelers it was hard not to think about his old partner, Mick Rafferty. The man had taught him so much as a rookie patrolman and they had remained close friends for a long time. They had worked a lot of cases together, including the robbery here, and he was suddenly saddened that he had let their friendship lapse after he'd become a detective. Raffy hadn't wanted him to do undercover work, for the reasons he was now dealing with, and that had led to long and very loud arguments, finally driving a wedge between them. He hadn't talked to him in a long time; the last being at his sister Erin's wedding, before he'd come to NCIS. It was Mick's sweet wife Isabel who had insisted they sit together at the reception and talk, and since neither one could ever say no to her, they'd agreed. By that time, Mick had become a sergeant and Deeks thought it suited him well. He was one of the most honest cops he knew and a stickler for the rules. Most of their conversation had been recounting war stories, but by the end of the day they'd both discovered they still felt a strong bond with one another, and they had parted as friends. Time had gotten away from them though and he now wondered how that big, raucous family was doing.

"Deeks?"

"Yeah, Kens?"

"You coming in?"

"Sorry. Just thinking about one of my old partners," he replied, smiling at her as they entered the coolness of the store. "Jack loved listening to Raffy's Irish accent. Hardly let me ask any questions."

"You mean he liked to talk more than you?" She asked with her signature cackle.

"Not really, but whatever he said sounded pretty damn cool," Deeks replied, smiling inwardly at the memories. "I would love for you to meet him and Isabel."

"Invite them to the wedding," she said easily.

"You have no idea how that crazy family operates," he laughed. "If the rest of the family finds out I'm getting married…which they will…we won't be able to keep them away. It'll be like a herd of stampeding wildebeest. Believe me…that is one big, boisterous Irish family."

"I think we can handle it," she said softly. "Besides, if they're your friends…I want to meet them."

"You say that now, but wait till they start to interrogate you about me," he warned. "Especially Erin. She's a damn good reporter who should have been a cop."

Kensi looked sharply at him, and he realized his tone had softened as he talked about her, so he quickly turned her toward a display case of engagement rings. At one time, he'd thought he was in love with Erin. They'd had a short and stormy relationship filled with amazing sex and long, drawn out arguments that went on for days. It wasn't meant to be, but they had cared deeply about one another, and had parted on good terms. She'd laughed when he warned her new husband to beware of her horrible temper, the man giving him a look that signaled he had already come up against it and lost more arguments than he'd won.

He shook off the old memories and watched as Kensi moved slowly along one of the jewelry cases, the tips of her slender fingers skimming lightly over the glass as she searched the rings nesting inside. She reached up to tuck a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear and the familiar habit caused a rush of emotion that brought tears to his eyes. His throat tightened and his heart raced with the love he was feeling for this beautiful creature in front of him. They had worked beside each other for so long, had fought for each other, and loved each other, and now she was going to be his wife and the joy of it was simply breathtaking and completely awesome.

"God, I love you Kensi Marie Blye," he whispered as he moved up close beside her, feeling an urgent need to touch her.

When she turned to look up at him, her mouth formed a soft smile and her eyes were filled with warmth. She looked so content and seemed to understand what he was feeling, reaching up to touch his cheek, kissing him as she laughed softly against his lips.

"And I love you, Marty Deeks," she said, her face suddenly serious as her eyes filled with bright tears.

"Find anything that strikes your fancy, my love?" He asked, wanting her smile back.

"I like that nickname."

"It's not a nickname…it's the truth," he replied, making her smile. "And there it is."

"Help me look," she said and turned back to the case.

Instead of looking, he watched the changing expressions on her face as she examined the choices. It wasn't hard to tell what her opinions were, smiling at some and frowning and shaking her head at others, the entire process incredibly enjoyable. A salesman, with a slight smile of his own, finally came over and offered to let her have a closer look at her favorites, and her face lit up. She tried a few on, quickly rejecting each one until she came to a simple, modern one where a delicate swirl of platinum wrapped around the brilliant oval shaped diamond in the center. She slid it on her finger and looked up at him with a look that let him know she had found the one she loved.

"It looks expensive," she said quietly as she stared down at it, watching it sparkle in the light.

When the salesman mentioned the price, she started to take it off, but he stopped her.

"It looks perfect," he said softly.

"But Deeks…"

"You love it, right?"

"Yes, but it cost so much," her voice full of concern.

"No problem, Sunshine," he said with a cocky grin. "I can sell the truck."

The withering look she gave him had him laughing, and the patient salesman looking slightly unsure.

"Let me talk to the owner to see what we can do on the price," the young man said, moving quickly away.

"You don't have to do this, Deeks," Kensi said softly, but her eyes never left the ring on her finger.

"But you love this one," he said, edging in for a closer look. "It's perfect, just like you."

"I don't want you to regret it later," she replied.

"If I regret anything, it's that I didn't give you one sooner," he said softly. "The cost isn't important, Kens. Seeing the look on your face when you put it on makes it worth every penny."

"You're sure?" She asked, but was starting to smile when she said it, the hope back in her eyes.

"I couldn't be anymore sure…I'm double black diamond rated sure," he said, huffing out a laugh.

He would have continued to come up with sayings about how sure he was, but Jack came out of the back and called out his name when he saw him, raising a hand in greeting. Deeks introduced him to Kensi and he took her proffered hand gently in his, admiring her choice of engagement ring.

"I designed this one myself," he said. "It has always been one of my favorites."

"It's beautiful," Kensi whispered. "I love it."

"Then Marty and I will make sure it never leaves your finger," Jack said quietly. "And I promise, he won't have to sell his truck."

The promise made him happy, but it was the look on Kensi's face that sealed the deal, her smile as brilliant as the ring on her finger.

…

…


	6. Chapter 6

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 6_

…

Kensi looked amazing as she stared down at her engagement ring once again, the soft lighting of the restaurant adding to the natural glow of her smooth skin. She hadn't taken her eyes off it for very long all evening, except when the food arrived smelling like heaven. The smile hadn't left her face then either. He had known Barrique in Venice was the place he wanted to take her for dinner after they found the perfect ring. He had heard about this place from Sam, and had called him early that morning to see if he could get them a table. After enduring some pointed teasing, Sam said he would call in a favor from the sommelier and had actually come through, even ordering a bottle of Prosecco that was waiting for them when they arrived. The grilled scallop appetizer had melted in his mouth and his sea bass was perfect and he offered to share it with Kensi, but she shook her head, moaning very sexily as she savored the last bite of the huge wild boar chop she'd ordered. The woman could eat.

"You ate that like you've been starving to death on a desert island," he said, grinning as she finished.

"It was extremely good," she replied. "Now call the waiter over. I want dessert."

"Of course you do, Sunshine. Hey, what about this idea? We get it to go and take it down to the beach," he suggested. "The moon's full tonight."

"Aren't you getting romantic," she said softly, reaching for his hand.

"I've always been romantic, darlin'," he said, lifting her hand to his lips. "But being engage to my ladybird has heightened my natural instincts."

She leaned over to kiss him, the warmth of her lips reminding him just how incredibly lucky he was. He felt content and loved and those were two things he never tired of, but it was the sheer feeling of joy that infused his entire body that surprised him. Since asking her to be his wife, it seemed to be a constant in his life, and he found himself unable to keep from smiling.

After ordering their dessert to go, Kensi went to freshen up. While he waited for the bill he decided to check his messages. He'd turned off his phone during dinner, not wanting anything to spoil their celebration, but even so, he was surprised by the number of missed calls. As he started to return one of the calls he saw Sam and Callen enter the restaurant, their faces hard and their eyes sweeping back and forth over the other diners. His mouth went dry and he quickly rose to his feet, the phone forgotten in his hand. He looked back toward the restrooms and saw Kensi staring back at him, a quizzical expression on her face as she hurried back to the table. Sam intercepted the waiter and Callen grabbed his arm and started to hustle him toward the rear of the restaurant, but he pulled out of his grasp and wrapped an arm around Kensi.

"What's going on, G?" Deeks asked in a hushed voice.

"Let's get outside first," he responded, constantly surveilling the room as he ushered them toward the back.

Callen rushed them through the kitchen and out into the small parking lot in back. Two fully armed members of the tactical squad waited beside a running SUV, and Deeks felt his heart drop into his stomach. Sam yanked open the back door to the black car and nodded for them to get in, his gun now out and by his side.

"Dammit, guys. What the hell's going on?" he finally demanded as he settled in the backseat.

"Somebody tried to kill Joe tonight. It was a drive-by at his house," Callen replied, his voice tight with anger.

"Sonofabitch! Is he all right? What about Diane and little Chris?" He couldn't control the panic he felt and Kensi squeezed his hand hard.

"They're all okay, Deeks. No one was hurt," Sam said coolly. "But when you and Kensi didn't answer your phones, G went a little crazy."

"It was a hit, Sam," Callen snapped. "For all we knew you'd come under attack too. Answer your damn phone, kid. I need to know where you are."

"Sam knew."

"Yeah? Well I wasn't with Sam," he shot back angrily. "Joe couldn't reach you either so he called me."

"Where are they?" He asked, swallowing down the bile that had risen with the fear.

"They're being taken to one of Hetty's houses somewhere in Pasadena," he replied. "We couldn't take the risk that our safe houses hadn't been compromised."

"By who? Who did this?" Kensi asked.

"Hetty believes it was arranged by either Harrison White or General Rasmussen to prevent your testimony at their trial," Sam answered. "Roy's gone dark, and Safa Jordan is missing."

"What do you mean, missing?" Deeks asked quietly, feeling his gut twist into a knot.

"She was on assignment and didn't make her last check-in," Callen replied. "It might be unrelated to what happened at Joe's, but we don't know for sure."

The following silence felt heavy as questions exploded into his mind, but he couldn't formulate one of them into a sentence. Callen looked at him with deep anger in his eyes that matched his own, and he reached out to him, knowing they needed no words to communicate. As the tactical agent revved the engine, Callen gripped his shoulder, his jaw rigid with determination.

"Sam and I will check out your place," he said. "Where's your car?"

"Parking lot at Fourth and Wiltshire," Deeks said.

"We'll have it checked out," Sam said. "They tried to blow me up in New Orleans, so we're not taking any chances."

"You think they followed us from home?" Kensi asked.

"I think Harrison White and the General have a lot of connections," Callen answered. "Might even have a few followers left. Rasmussen had men willing to die for him, so it's not a stretch to think they'd be willing to kill for him. They got Joe's home address somehow, so they might have yours too."

"What about yours G?" He said, his voice cracking as he voiced his fear.

"I doubt they'll figure out where I live," he replied evenly. "My house is listed under an alias."

"I've got his back, Deeks. We'll see you at Hetty's," Sam said. "And Kensi? Your engagement ring is beautiful."

She flashed him a soft, shy smile that quickly faded, and the anger Deeks felt surged once again over how their day had ended.

"Sam? Watch your six, brother," Deeks warned. "Harrison White won't forget what you did either."

The big man nodded and slammed the door, leaving them in the protective custody of the tactical agents. With an acknowledgment from the man riding shotgun, the wheels of the SUV squealed as they backed out of the parking lot and roared down the back alley. Once they hit the freeway, Deeks slumped into the seat and pulled Kensi's hand to his chest. She snugged up against his arm and laid her head on his shoulder, but her body remained coiled and full of tension.

"I'm sorry the day ended like this, Kens," he whispered.

"Me too. It was a wonderful day," she said, sounding nostalgic as if it had happened a long time ago.

"You never got your dessert," he said.

"But, I've still got you, so I'm good," she replied, her fingers tightening on his arm as if she might lose him.

He could feel there was something unspoken and he moved so he could look in her eyes.

"Kens? What's going on in your head right now?"

"What if we hadn't gone out today?" she asked. "What if we hadn't gone to dinner? What if…"

"Baby…don't do that. Okay?" He said, wanting desperately to assure her even though they were valid questions. "We got lucky. Or maybe they don't know where we live. Anyway, the team will find whoever did this. You know they will."

"I know, but this was supposed to be over," she said angrily. "God…Diane must have been scared to death."

"Joe's gotta be crazy mad. I better call him," Deeks said, needing to hear his brother's voice, but the agent in the shotgun seat turned quickly and shook his head.

"Don't bother calling, Agent Deeks," he said. "Hetty was afraid Mr. Atwood's phone might have been compromised. It's already been shut down. Probably yours and Agent Blye's too, by now."

"Does he know we're okay?"

"Yes sir," he replied. "The tactical squad sent to extract Mr. Atwood and his family informed them as soon as Callen and Sam secured you and Agent Blye."

"I'm sorry…I don't think we've worked together before. What's your name?" he asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I'm Agent Kareem Louis, sir, and your driver is a hardass we call Slingshot," the man said without cracking a smile. "Real name, David Biggs."

"His mama named him after Kareem Abdul-Jabbar," the driver drawled out. "But he can't make a basket to save his life. His nickname's Airball."

"If it'll help ease your mind sir, Hetty told me to give you this," Agent Louis said as he handed him a Glock butt first. "I have one for Agent Blye as well."

"There's already a gun pointed at your back, Kareem," Kensi said casually.

"Yes ma'am," he choked out in surprised. "Guess Sam wasn't kidding when he said you were two of the best."

"You know Sam?" Deeks asked.

"Agent Hanna's the one who recommended me for this job, sir," he replied. "We worked a task force together in Texas awhile back. That's where I met Agent Biggs. He just sorta tagged along."

Deeks finally let out a long breath, but noticed Kensi still had her backup weapon out.

"Seriously Kens? You brought a gun along to look for an engagement ring?"

"Didn't you?" She asked as she slid her weapon back in her boot.

"Yeah, but…"

"You forget who you're engaged to, Agent Deeks?" She asked, sounding slightly miffed.

"I think you're in trouble, sir," the driver said flatly, eyeing him in the rearview mirror.

"Really?"

"I'm married to a cop, sir," he replied. "I know the tone."

"Yeah…me too," Deeks said, huffing out a breath as he slid a round into the chamber of the Glock.

They settled back into silence, but his mind was noisy with questions and memories and heart pumping scenarios. The thought that they were all being drawn back in to the morass that was the op in Louisiana made him incredibly angry and he felt Jimmy Hale pricking at the edges of his mind. They had attacked his family. They had gone after Joe again and he wanted to end this now, before someone he loved was killed by those cowards.

"Gimme your phone Agent Louis," he demanded sharply.

"I have orders, sir," the man replied.

"And I got a Glock, man, and that wasn't a fuckin' request," he snarled roughly, immediately realizing he was using the voice of Jimmy Hale.

The man turned to look back at him and he saw a surprised look on Kensi's face as well.

"Deeks?"

"Kens, I'm not runnin' from these bastards, and I'm not gonna be kept in the dark," he said, holding his hand out for the phone. "Now give me the damn phone, Agent Airball."

The two agents looked at each other and the driver cocked his head as the phone was pulled and handed to him.

"Sam's gonna kick my ass," Agent Louis mumbled.

"No he won't, cause he was there," Deeks replied.

"It's Hetty you should be worried about," Kensi mentioned, her eyes sharp as she watched him make a call.

"G? You okay, brother?" Deeks asked quickly, putting the phone on speaker so Kensi could hear.

"I told Hetty keeping you out of this wouldn't work," he answered. "How'd you get one of them to give up their phone? Hetty said she gave strict orders."

"Agent Louis made the mistake of giving Jimmy Hale a weapon," he said, irritated at feeling the presence of his recent alias.

"Don't go there, brother," Callen urged.

"Are you at the house?" Deeks asked, annoyed by the warning.

"Yeah…"

"And..?"

"Your front door was rigged to blow as soon as you opened it," he said very slowly. "Sam said you wouldn't have spotted it if you weren't looking for it. These bastards are definitely black ops."

"Sonofabitch."

"Did Sam find anything else?" Deeks asked as he gripped Kensi's hand.

"Not yet, but the good news is the bastards didn't find the security cameras Hetty had installed," Callen replied.

"What security cameras?" Kensi asked.

"Did she suspect this might happen?" Deeks asked. "And why didn't you tell me, Callen?"

"She told me she was worried, but she didn't tell me about the cameras until tonight…after the attack on Joe."

"Were there cameras at Joe's house?" Kensi asked.

"Hetty didn't say," Callen replied.

Deeks was seriously enraged now, almost speechless that Hetty hadn't warned him, keeping him in the dark about his own security.

"Why would she keep that from us?" Deeks rasped out.

"We both want the answer to that, kid," Callen said, unable to mask his own anger. "The bomb squad just got here, so Sam and I will see you at Hetty's."

"What about Michelle and Kamran?" He asked.

"On their way to a safe location," he replied. "Sam won't even tell me where it…"

The rest of his sentence was cut off by Sam yelling his brother's name followed by a muffled grunt from Callen as the shattering sounds of automatic weapons fire echoed back through the phone.

"G! Sam!" Deeks shouted at the phone in the darkness of the car.

They could hear return fire, but neither man answered, scaring Deeks badly. He looked quickly at Kensi, her eyes wide with fear.

"Turn around. Now," he yelled at the tactical squad.

"Deeks? We're good, Deeks. We're good!" Sam said breathlessly into the phone.

"Where's G?" He asked, trying to control his emotions.

"He's pulling one of the shooters out of a shot-to-hell SUV," he replied, sounding winded.

"You okay Sam?"

"Just pissed," he replied. "The bomb squad opened up on them. Hope one of them is still alive so I can kick his ass."

"Deeks? Don't come back here. Get to Hetty's," Callen shouted out.

"You get 'em?" He demanded, not happy about being shut out.

"One guy's holding on. Don't know for how long. He was the shooter," Callen responded a little more calmly. "The driver and the passenger are dead."

"They had our place staked out," Deeks said coldly.

"Needed to confirm the kill," Callen replied. "Things changed when we showed up."

"Probably the same guys who hit Joe's place," Kensi offered.

"Sam just talked to Hetty. She's sending agents to the hospital to interrogate this guy as soon as he's awake," Callen said. "I'm coming to you."

"Tell me you're okay, brother," Deeks asked softly, needing to hear him confirm it.

"Sam landed on top of me," he laughed. "So I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be sore tomorrow."

"See you at Hetty's," he replied.

The connection cut off and he handed the phone back to the agent, all of them retreating into silence until the car finally turned up into the hills overlooking Pasadena.

"We are three minutes out," Agent Louis said, and Deeks realized he was on comms and probably had been during the entire ride.

"Hetty was listening," he whispered to Kensi.

"Copy that, ma'am," the agent said, before turning to look at Deeks. "She said she heard that."

Deeks shook his head and refused to comment, still harboring some resentment that she hadn't told him she'd ordered security cameras put in place around his house.

"Not sure how to discern that ma'am. I just met him. Yes ma'am," Agent Louis said, before turning to look back at Deeks again, studying him with a critical eye and a half smile. "She wants to know if you're sulking. Are you, sir?"

Deeks still didn't respond and the man turned back as they pulled up to the gate at the bottom of her driveway.

"Yes ma'am. I'll tell him ma'am," Agent Louis said crisply. "She says you are, sir. Sulking, sir."

"Call me Deeks, Airball. And tell Ms. Lange I'm not sulking, I'm pissed."

"She says you're both, sir."

Kensi started to smile, covering her mouth with her hand and Deeks was finding it hard not to grin. They all knew Hetty listened in on them most of the time, so he should be used to it, but the situation had him striking out as he fought for equilibrium. He should be grateful that she had sent a team for Joe and his family as soon as she found out what had happen. She was watching over them all, so he decided to let his anger go.

Motion lights flared on as they approached the front entry of the impressive Spanish Colonial house. He saw no immediate signs that there were guards, but he had no doubt that they were there, hidden in the lush landscape. He had barely gotten out of the car before Joe rushed out the front door and pulled him into a quick but powerful hug.

"Leave your damn phone on, dumbass," Joe said before kissing Kensi on the cheek. "You two okay?

"We're fine. You're the one who got shot at," Deeks said, looking him over to make sure he hadn't been hurt as they walked toward the front door. "How's Diane holding up?"

"Finally got her to stop swearing," he said, his eyes darting around the grounds as if someone might start shooting again. "We'd just finished dinner. Diane was clearing the table and had gone into the kitchen…I had Chris on my lap…"

Deeks stopped and reached out to grip Joe's shoulder and Kensi grasped his hand as he struggled to continue.

"I don't know how they missed us," he whispered. "The window shattered and I hit the ground and Chris started screaming his head off so loud I thought he'd been hit. I yelled at Diane to stay where she was… God, Deeks, it was awful. Those fucking bastards tried to kill my whole family."

Joe was trembling by the time he finished, and Deeks wrapped him in a hug. "They're safe now, brother. They're safe."

"Hetty wants you all inside, sir," Agent Louis said as he came up and nodded toward the recessed door.

"Thanks for the ride, Airball," Deeks said as he walked past the man.

"Thanks for not shooting me, Deeks."

"Kensi's the one who would have shot you," he said lightly, until he saw the look on Joe's face.

Raw anger distorted his brother's face and Deeks put a hand on his chest. "He's good, Joe. I just got a little paranoid."

Agent Biggs was suddenly behind them and Joe turned to face him, his hands now in fists. Deeks raised a hand to make sure the agent didn't take a step any closer, recognizing just how close Joe was to losing it completely.

"They're on our side, Joe," Kensi said softly as she took his arm and turned him toward the front door.

"He's edgy as hell," Agent Biggs said quietly.

"His wife and baby son were almost killed tonight," Deeks said.

"Shit! Sorry, sir. I should've known better than to come up behind a man like that."

"He's ex-military isn't he?" Louis asked.

"And a former FBI agent," Deeks replied.

"Lost his trust along the way," Biggs remarked solemnly.

"He had good reason," Deeks said. "You two sticking around?"

"We'll be on overwatch all night, sir," Agent Louis said. "And sir? Hetty wants me to tell you she's waiting."

Deeks shook his head and grinned as he left the men and walked into the softly lit entryway. The door closed quietly behind him and he found himself standing on a huge cream and brown Navajo rug, a spare pattern zigzagging across it. On either side of the entry were long arched alcoves, each one filled with black and white pottery that looked worn with age. He smiled, knowing Hetty's love of collecting hadn't waned, it had just found another path.

"They're from Acoma, a pueblo in New Mexico," Hetty said as she came down the hallway in front of him. "They fit this lovely old house quite well, I think."

"Hetty," Nodding solemnly at his boss.

"Mr. Deeks."

"Why didn't you tell me you had us under surveillance?"

"You had enough to deal with when you got back from that assignment," she replied gently. "I saw no need to worry you."

"How long have they been there?"

"I had them installed just before you returned from Louisiana. I did the same for Mr. Callen and for Sam."

"Seriously? You had three months to tell me, Hetty," he said, feeling angry once again. "Why didn't you?"

"The better question is why I felt it necessary," she replied quietly.

"You expected this," He said.

"Anticipating what our enemies might do is part of my job description, Mr. Deeks," she replied. "Considering who we were dealing with, I felt we needed to be extra careful of those particular bastards. Unfortunately, the person I had monitoring the security cameras let us both down. He left his post, allowing your house to be rigged. Needless to say, he is no longer with us, leaving me to ask for your forgiveness. I let you and Kensi down, and for that I am truly sorry."

He could see she was shaken by how close they had come to disaster and his anger turned to the men responsible.

"Any new intel you want to share?"

"Nell and Eric are getting set up in my office," she said. "We'll discuss what happens next when Mr. Callen and Sam arrived."

"Thanks for getting Joe and his family out and bringing them here," he said as they walked down the hall.

"Now that he's no longer with the FBI he had no one to call for help," she replied. "He's part of our family, so of course I wanted to make sure he and his family were safe."

"I won't forget it, Hetty," he said earnestly.

"Well don't forget to leave your phone on from now on either," she said, her tone all business. "You scared the bejesus out of your brothers and me when you didn't pick up."

"I didn't want our celebration to be interrupted," he replied softly. "Kensi found her engagement ring."

"I saw it, Mr. Deeks. It's beautiful," she said kindly, patting him on the arm, but he could sense she had more on her mind.

"Now, I think it might be a good time to call Elan," she said. "Joe has refused to call him or his father to tell them what happened tonight, and I'm not sure that's wise."

"You think Harrison White knows about the ranch?" He asked as a dark thread of fear wrapped around his heart.

"He's a reprobate who's been pulled off his high horse," she said, her eyes intense. "He has nothing left to lose, Mr. Deeks. Punishing those responsible for his downfall just might include destroying your whole family, so I don't think we should take the chance that he doesn't know. We did that once before and it almost got you all killed."

"Sonofabitch!"

…

…


	7. Chapter 7

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 7_

…

If Deeks believed any of the new age stuff he'd professed over the years, he'd have to say Hetty's house had an aura, one of peace and sanctuary. Like Hetty, a woman solid and unflappable in crisis, this house had a quality that exuded coolness, a proffered refuge against the troubles of the outside world. It was like being on an island of calm in a crazy sea of uncertainty and the wild upheaval that had happened just beyond its walls. He turned to thank her for letting them come here, but was interrupted by a delightful squeal.

"Unca Marty," Joe's little boy shouted, twisting away from his mother to run to him.

He lifted Chris in his arms as the others filed silently into the living room, a tautness in everyone's movements, their anxiety almost palpable. It felt good to be together and finally safe, and he let out a long sigh of relief as tiny fingers toyed with his hair.

"Hey buddy, cool band-aid," Deeks said, ruffling the boy's unruly brown hair as he examined the small bruise on his forehead.

"Me and daddy fell on the floor when the bad men broke the window," Chris explained in a soft matter of fact voice. "And there was big booms…hurt my ears. Mommy was crying. She said bad words, Unca Marty."

"But you're okay, right buddy?" Deeks asked as he stared into Diane's eyes, still bright with angry tears.

"Uh huh," he nodded and then yawned, making them all smile just a little bit.

"Time for bed, buster," Diane said, wiping at her tears. "Say goodnight."

"I wanna hear 'bout the ponies at Grampa George's," whining as she took the little boy from his arms.

"Tomorrow," Diane said softly, pulling him close and kissing the top of his head.

"I'm so sorry, Di," Deeks said, gently stroking her arm. "This should never have happened. But you're safe now."

"Bullshit," she said, her voice tight and angry. "This is a stupid, crazy, dangerous life you all live. You all know that don't you? I'm not going to miss any of this. I hate it. I hate seeing all of you in danger all the time and I can't wait to get my family out of it."

"It's what we do, dear," Hetty said calmly.

"And the people you pissed off almost killed my two year old son," she snapped back, the truth of her words keeping them all silent.

"They know, Di," Joe said quietly.

"I'm sorry. I know what you do is important," she said as her tears finally overflowed. "And you found Joe and brought him back to us, and I'm forever grateful for that. But tonight scared the crap out of me and I don't think I could go through something like that ever again. I just can't."

"We'll make sure you don't," Callen said, his eyes as intense as his promise.

She ran her hand through her little boy's soft curls and pulled him close as she headed for the stairs, but turned to face them before she started up.

"Please don't get yourselves killed," she pleaded. "I couldn't bear that…I love you all so much."

Deeks felt as if his heart was clutched tightly in someone's fist, her fervent words touching and powerful. He watched her carry Chris slowly up the stairs as if she had no strength left, and his anger with Harrison White and Rasmussen exploded, sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through his body. That woman and that little boy were his family. All these people were, and he felt fiercely protective of them all. When Joe moved forward to follow his wife and son, Deeks raised a hand to stop him.

"Kens? Can you go up and stay with her?" Deeks asked.

She nodded and headed for the stairs, squeezing Joe's arm as she passed by. "I'll make sure she feels safe."

"Thanks, Kensi," he replied, looking grateful, but worn out.

"We have to call the ranch, Joe. Elan needs to be prepared," Deeks said firmly.

His brother's eyes widened, and he let out a strangled breath. "You think those bastards will go there too?"

"We can't take the chance," he replied. "We can't let that happen again."

"This is a fucking nightmare," Joe said as he dropped into an overstuffed chair. "And I can't wake up."

"Go be with your wife and son, Mr. Atwood," Hetty said. "We'll take it from here."

"The hell you will," he hissed, rising instantly from the chair. "I've got a stake in this just as much as any of you. Maybe more after tonight."

"But you are no longer a federal agent," she said.

"Neither was Elan when he worked with us in Louisiana," Deeks reminded her.

"Come on, Hetty, we could use all the help we can get," Sam said.

"He has a right to help us take these guys down," Callen said with an intensity Deeks hadn't seen since Louisiana.

"I agree…and I suppose I can make an exception in this case, but be aware, Mr. Atwood, you do as I say. No going off half cocked," she replied. "All of you need to control your emotions. We must come at these bastards with a clear head. Rasmussen has run black ops before, and we need to stay focused."

"I've never been more focused. Call Elan, brother," Joe said and looked steadily at Deeks as he made the call.

"Tell me you're okay, Cuz," Elan's voice was raw as if he'd been shouting and Deeks quickly put the phone on speaker.

"Tell me you are," Deeks said in a rush as the others closed in around him.

"We are now," he replied, sounding winded. "Couple of men in tactical gear were trying to be covert. Approached along the fence line by the house. Guess they didn't know much about horses. Three mares and my gelding blew their cover."

"Is anyone hurt, Elan?" Joe asked, reaching out to grip Deeks' arm.

"No, everybody's good, Cuz. Don't think they were here to kill us though, or they would have opened up instead of trying to sneak up on us," he replied. "Tried to snatch Soldier when he went out to check on what was spooking the horses. I've been working with him, so he was a handful for 'em. Never saw me."

"Tell me you left one of them alive," Hetty said quietly.

"You at work, Marty?" Elan asked.

"Sort of. A black ops squad tried to take out Joe at his house tonight and rigged my front door," he replied, his hand trembling as another ripple of anger ran through him. "We're all hold up at one of Hetty's houses to figure things out."

"Joe…?" Elan called out. "Please tell me Di and Chris are okay?"

"Shaken up pretty bad," Joe said softly, sharing the details that had him responding roughly in Arapaho.

"Do you need me to come?" Elan finally asked.

"No, Elan. Stay there," Callen said. "They may send another team."

"Any idea who the hell is behind this? Elan asked.

"Leftover shit from Louisiana," Deeks answered.

"We believe Harrison White and General Rasmussen have arranged to take out anyone willing to testify against them," Hetty said. "I think he sent men to the ranch to take hostages if the team here were to fail. Which they did. So you've been under surveillance for a while."

"They've been planning this for a long time," Sam added.

"I thought those two were in custody," Elan said.

"Both men had sterling reputations before their terrorism plot unraveled," Hetty said. "They have a lot of friends in high places who refuse to believe they were involved with The Brotherhood and I'm quite sure they made a good case to keep them thinking that."

"So they're out on the street?" Elan asked.

"Harrison White is still being held, but Rasmussen managed to get himself placed under house arrest." She replied. "Now, Mr. Hand, please tell me there is someone still alive to interrogate."

"My son saw me kill a man once, and I didn't want him to watch me kill another," he replied. "Both men are tied up in the barn. One can probably still talk."

"You're a good father, Elan," Hetty said kindly. "Are the local police involved yet?"

"Do you want them to be?" Elan asked, making Hetty smile.

"Not at this time," she replied. "Operators like that may be a bit too much for the locals."

"Elan, you need to get everyone up to your cabin," Callen said quickly. "And take those guys with you. If they missed a check in, there could be a back up team and you might not be so lucky next time."

"They may not know about the cabin, but if they do, at least you'll hold the high ground up there," Joe added.

"You want me to question those two?" Elan asked.

"No. I'll send Roy to do that," Hetty replied.

"I thought he went dark," Deeks said.

"I always know where the shadows are, Mr. Deeks, and where to find who's in them," she said with a fleeting smile.

"I better get going," Elan said. "The ride up to the cabin at night's gonna take some time."

"Take the dogs with you," Deeks said.

"Okay, but just so you know, they slept through this whole thing," Elan laughed. "Told George and Uncle Jim they feed 'em too much."

"Still, I don't want 'em shot if someone breaches the house," Deeks said quietly.

"You got it, brother. Have Roy call me Hetty. I'll talk him in," Elan said. "You all take care…and Joe? Kiss my baby cousin for me."

"Will do, Cuz," Joe replied.

"Sonofabitch," Deeks muttered softly and then turned toward the French doors, moving quickly out to the stone patio.

He felt as if he were drowning. Men had been sent to attack everyone he loved and the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. He was torn between his family here and the home he'd found in Wyoming. Hetty had asked them to control their emotions, but he wasn't sure he could do that.

Walking out to the railing, he looked down on the lower patio softly lit with garden lights. At the edges he detected movement and his hand went to the borrowed Glock tucked behind his back. A man stepped out of the bushes and signaled him. When he saw the white letters NCIS spelled out across his chest he blew out his breath and relaxed, raising his eyes to look out over the shimmering lights of the city.

"Hey baby," Kensi said quietly as she walked up behind him.

She bumped him and he pulled her against his side, finding immediate comfort simply because she was there. She began to rub his back and he closed his eyes and turned to bury his head in her hair, the smell of lavender calming him.

"How's Di?" He asked.

"Joe's with her," she replied. "They're both exhausted."

"Fear will do that to you," he whispered. "If they had lost Chris, Joe would have gone on a rampage."

"And you would have gone with him," she said as she gently stroked the back of his head. "I know you're afraid for all of them, baby, but we're all together now and we're pretty damn hard to beat when we're fighting side by side."

"Yeah, we are," he said, pulling back to look at her. "You doing okay?"

"Other than wishing we had bought this ring and eloped?" She said with a sweet smile as she gazed down at her finger. "Yeah, I'm good."

"I love you, Kens," he said and leaned in to kiss her. "Now tell me where this elopement would have ended up. Maui? Lots of great surf there…or maybe...we fly to Puerto Rico? I surfed their once with some buddies from college."

"Why is everything about surfing with you Deeks?" She asked, her eyes flashing a warning that his suggestions were way off the mark. "We'd be running off to get married, not surf."

"You're right, Kens," he replied, kissing her to take away the look of disappointment on her face. "Tell me what you had in mind."

"I don't know…just someplace romantic…like Paris or Italy. You could take me on a gondola ride in Venice," she said, her cheeks flushing red as she smiled. "And don't you dare say we have Venice right here or I will seriously punch you."

"I wasn't going to say that, baby, and not because of your frightening and slightly inappropriate threat," he said as he pulled her into his arms. "But because I want to give you everything you want, Kens. And after all this is over and those bastards pay for what they did, I'll buy plane tickets to anywhere you want to go. We'll have a private ceremony and sail off into the sunset together."

"We won't be able to do that and you know it," she said, brushing his hair back.

"Why not?"

"Because your family in there would track us down," she said. "And because it would seriously hurt George's feelings."

"Yeah, no…of course," he mumbled.

"Our honeymoon, however, will be a different story," she said confidently. "That we will plan with subterfuge and cunning. No one will know where we are and I will have you all to myself…preferably naked."

"I love my secret agent fiancé," he laughed. "But you do remember Eric and Nell and especially Hetty, don't you? No way we hide from them."

"We have guns. They know this."

"Now you're scaring me," he said, eying her with a raised eyebrow. "What is it with you and guns, soon to be Kensi Marie Deeks?"

"I value my private time, and my honeymoon is going to be exceedingly private," she replied firmly. "Just you and me and maybe some ice cream."

"I know a few things we can do with ice cream, especially if we go to a hot climate," he whispered into her neck before nuzzling her ear.

"Oh it's gonna be hot…you can count on that," she said, giggling as his tongue tickled her earlobe.

"That's my sexy fiancé."

He pushed the trials of the night into the back of his mind as his mouth found hers, losing himself in her warm, sensuous kisses until he heard a noise behind them. They broke apart and pulled their guns in unison, only to see Hetty standing unperturbed in the open door.

"We have new intel," she said and then turned and walked back inside, expecting them to follow.

"Hetty is definitely not allowed to know where we go on our honeymoon," Deeks said under his breath.

When they reentered the living room they found Hetty standing along a side wall in front of a large red and black striped Navajo rug, the wide red panels decorated with a series of black outlined crosses. It was stunning, the boldness of the design somehow an embodiment of the powerful woman standing in front of it.

"Honeymoons are decidedly outside my purview, Mr. Deeks," she said with an indulgent smile.

He dropped his head and grinned, shaking his head in acknowledgement of her remarkable hearing as Kensi squeezed his hand.

"Eric and Nell find something?" He finally asked, turning serious.

"Yes, and Mr. Callen is not happy," she replied as she turned to open the door on a room filled with computers and a large smart board. He could feel the tension in the room and walked quickly up to stand beside Callen as he stared unblinking at the photos of two men on the big screen, one immediately recognizable.

"That's Beau," Deeks said.

"Who's Beau?" Kensi asked.

"Rasmussen's undercover operative in The Brotherhood," Deeks replied softly. "He tortured Callen and I had to kill him to stop it."

"His real name was Nathan Maddox. The other man is his brother, Weston," Eric informed them.

"Both men served under General Rasmussen," Nell continued. "Both were Special Forces. Nathan, or Beau as you knew him, was trained in black ops and operated under General Rasmussen's command infiltrating a variety of terrorist cells over the years, mainly in Eastern Europe."

"And he was very good at it, but you know that first hand," Hetty added.

"Is Rasmussen CIA?" Callen asked.

"Not that we know of, but he does have extensive contacts within the Agency," she replied. "But it's the older Maddox brother that is now our main concern."

"Remember the General's personal tactical squad Hetty had rerouted to Guantanamo so they couldn't take part in the final showdown with The Brotherhood?" Eric asked. "Well…guess who was its commanding officer?"

"Weston Maddox," Deeks answered.

"Major Maddox is a highly decorated soldier," Hetty said. "Apparently he and the General are quite close. A few of my contacts describe them as having a father son relationship."

"Why wasn't he ever charged?" Sam asked. "He was headed to Louisiana when you diverted the plane."

"No charges were ever filed against him or his men. The higher ups decided they were just following orders," Nell said quietly.

"Whose command is he under now?" Sam asked.

"He was granted an extended leave of absence to deal with his brother's death," Nell said. "He has no other family that we can find."

"Location at the moment?" Callen asked.

"Unknown."

"You think he was in command of the unit that hit my house," Joe said, his voice rising in anger.

"Yes, and we're pretty sure he has other teams and operators at his disposal," Eric added.

"Like the two who hit the ranch," Joe said.

"He's organized and well equipped," Hetty said.

"With men at his disposal who are more than willing to drink the kool-aid," Sam added.

"The men killed at Deeks' house were all ex-military and had served under the General and Maddox at different times," Eric informed them as photos of their dead bodies flashed onto the screen along with their military identification photos. "The lone survivor is still in surgery. His name is Russell Cain. He was Weston Maddox's second in command of a special forces team in Afghanistan."

"I believe Harrison White had someone still loyal to him ferret out personal information about all of you and deliver it to General Rasmussen," Hetty said. "And he sent Weston Maddox to take you out."

"Maddox is looking for payback for what happened to his brother," Sam said.

"Eric? Find this guy," Callen ordered, his voice hard and angry.

"Already on it," he replied, turning back to his computer.

"Until Eric tracks him down, I suggest you all get some rest," Hetty said. "There won't be much of it once we find that bastard."

"Maybe the men Elan captured will give him up." Joe said.

"Roy Blanchard will be on his way to Wyoming shortly," Hetty informed them. "If anyone can get the answers we need, it's Roy. Now, go get some sleep. Bedrooms are upstairs."

Kensi took his hand, but his mind had taken a dark turn as his thoughts slid back to the swamps of Louisiana. He caught Callen's eye and saw the same thoughts reflected back.

"Go on up and find us a comfy bed, Kens," he said. "I need to talk to G."

She hesitated, but then kissed him lightly on the cheek and did as he asked. Joe draped an arm across his shoulder as everyone walked out of the room except the Wonder Twins, who remained at their computers. He suddenly felt desperate for air and to distance himself from the claustrophobic thoughts that were closing in on him. He broke away from Joe and hurried back out to the patio, gripping the cold rail and sucking in the cool night air. He sensed Callen on his left and he welcomed the grip of his hand on his shoulder as the scene of his brother's torture replayed over and over in his mind.

"He was gonna slit your throat," he whispered. "What if I hadn't come to?"

"But you did," Callen said softly. "I'm here. Joe's here…and you're here. And we can't seem to get rid of Sam."

"Hey…" Sam said as he placed his hands on Deeks' shoulders. "A sniper took a shot at me and then tried to blow me up. None of us came out of that op with good memories."

"Except finding Joe. I almost didn't believe it when I heard your voice in that little church, brother," Deeks said as he turned to see Joe staring out at the city.

"I hadn't thought about God for a long time till I was alone in that swamp," Joe said softly. "After my brother Chris was killed in Iraq, I wanted nothing more to do with God. But, out there...alone…in pain, scared out of my mind that I would never see my family again I began saying prayers my mother taught me. Just in case…you know…just in case God was up there listening. Then the Toussaints found me."

"Good people," Callen said.

"I wouldn't have made it without 'em," Joe whispered. "And I never really thanked them. That old preacher and his whole family risked their lives to protect me and I've never thanked them. Why didn't I go back and do that?"

"Because we wanted to forget about it...all of it," Deeks said, squeezing Joe's shoulder as he tried to comfort him.

"Yeah? Well those assholes tonight haven't forgotten about it, and they don't want us to forget either," Joe said sharply, his anger infecting them all.

"Then let's make 'em sorry for reminding us," Sam said.

"And after we're finished with 'em, we'll go pay our respects to the Toussaint family," Deeks said. "All of us. Together."

Joe grabbed him and wrapped him a powerful hug before pulling the others in too. They were a unique brotherhood and Deeks drew on the strength that brotherhood engendered. He knew they would all need it before this was finally over.

…

…


	8. Chapter 8

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 8_

…

Wes Maddox picked at the frayed cuff of his khaki sweater, pulling at the loose threads and rolling them between his finger and thumb. It helped him think, and he needed to think, to constrain his mind from wandering back to the body of his brother lying so cold and starkly dead on the metal table in the morgue. He needed to concentrate on the photographs of his killers now up on his tablet, but his brother's face continually overshadowed the images, drawing him back into his unending nightmare. He had always prided himself on his ability to remain in complete control of his emotions, but the death of his last remaining blood relative at the hands of these two men had broken that mastery.

Though he hadn't been particularly close to Nate, they had forged a tolerable bond during a childhood that had been one long competition to impress their rigid father. When he was twelve, that competition had turned violent, and it had made their father laugh, something rare and slightly unnerving. From then on he had pushed them even harder, and Wes had proudly bested his brother in almost every competition, losing only five times when they were older, earning a cold rebuke from his father that was more painful than if he had hit him. The man never raised a hand to either of them, but he hadn't needed to, they'd punished each other for him. When one of them lost one of their father's cutthroat contests, the loser was ordered to stand at full attention in the yard and take whatever punch his father ordered the other to administer. If they made a sound, they stood at attention for the rest of the night. If they broke he somehow knew and the punishment continued without food or water or regard for the weather for another full day. His brother broke a few times when he was a kid, once because he'd punched him so hard he'd broken his rib. After that, whatever camaraderie they'd shared evaporated. His brother had been thirteen when it happened and afterwards spent whatever free time he had building up his body. By the time he was fourteen, no one messed with him, himself included. That was the year their father died, and he'd been sixteen and tired of school, longing to follow in his dead father's footsteps by joining the Marines. That's when they'd discovered General Jefferson Rasmussen, someone they'd never met, had been appointed their legal guardian in accordance with their father's wishes. That's when he learned what brotherhood and loyalty meant. That's when his life found a purpose.

His father had served with the man and it had taken them no more than a day to discover he was just as tough as their old man, but that's where the similarity ended. The competitive games between the two brothers his father had thirsted on were no longer allowed. Their second weekend with the General, as they had been instructed to call him from the beginning, was spent walking through Arlington National Cemetery. He spoke about sacrifice, about honor and about brotherhood, making it clear that men in arms fought for one another, not against each other, telling them it was something their father had never understood. He taught them what it meant to serve their country and that following orders was their duty and expected if they intended to remain under his supervision. He tolerated very few questions, but unlike their father, he would praise them for any job well done, treating them with respect, if not kindness. Nate was hooked from the beginning, but he had rebelled, testing the boundaries the General imposed. He'd expected to be punished for his insubordination, but the man had surprised him, staring at him as if he understood his reason for acting out.

The next day he was taken out of school for the week and sent on a trek into a rugged wilderness area called Roaring Plains in West Virginia with four battle hardened men just back from the invasion of Iraq. He'd been treated as an equal and no quarter was given for the fact that he was a teenager with limited survival skills. He had never been so cold or as exhausted or as happy in his life. He never questioned General Rasmussen again. When he was old enough he joined the Marines, as did his brother, learning skills that served them both well in combat. Their overwhelming allegiance was to the General as he climbed the ranks and became a decorated, four-star General, keeping them both under his command throughout. What he believed, he and his brother came to believe, and when the General broke with his own government over perceived errors in its approach to the future and searched for a way to change its course, they never doubted him. They pledged they would die for him, and his brother Nate had, and now his surrogate father was being treated like a traitor. He would not let that pass. He would take out the men involved in the death of his brother and anyone who had contributed to the downfall of the man who had given him purpose. No matter how many men had to be sacrificed, failure was not an option.

…

…

He thought they had healed, or at least come to terms with what had happened to all of them in Louisiana. Now he wasn't so sure. The aftereffects he thought he'd conquered had come roaring back when he saw the photo of the man he knew as Beau, residual images filled with remembered fear and the smell of blood and algae. Even Kensi's soft murmurs of love before they'd fallen asleep hadn't distracted him from his need to sort it all out and make sense of the fact that they were still in the midst of that painful operation. They weren't free of it and this morning he felt the first stirring of anger.

He rose from the bed as silently as he could, not wanting to disturb her sleep. He paused, taking a moment to observe her as she slept in the pale light, her body curled around a pillow and her dark hair mussed, obscuring half her face. She made soft sounds as she adjusted to his absence, her arm moving unconsciously toward the warmth his body had left on the sheets. In that instant he wanted to crawl back in beside her, to hold her and caress her and make slow, sweet love to her, and forget about what awaited them. She was so precious to him. His future wife. She was a woman full of life and unbelievable energy and so very sensuous and tenderly beautiful.

The intrusion into this life he had found with her by men determined to end it was something he wouldn't allow. They had made a mistake by coming for them. They couldn't possibly understand the strength of this family and it would cost them more than it already had. He had seen the look on Callen's face last night, and heard the resolve in Sam's voice. Joe was still fighting the demons that had found him in that swamp, but Rasmussen's men had made an error in judgment if they thought they could take them down without a fight. They had only enraged them.

"Deeks?"

Her voice was breathy and thick with sleep and he wished he'd left before she woke, not wanting her to see his anger.

"Sorry, baby," he said as he rummaged through his go-bag in search of a tee shirt. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't go just yet," she whispered, rising up on one elbow and tousling her hair.

"Just need to talk to Callen," he said, grinning softly when she whined with disappointment.

"You going to walk around Hetty's house naked like that?" she asked, her smile way too suggestive.

"Go back to sleep," He said as he pulled out a rumpled tee shirt.

He heard the sheets rustle behind him and before he could turn, her hands glided over his ass and up to his hips, holding him in place. The gentle kisses on his backside made him shiver and he closed his eyes, a grin quickly forming as her hands moved over him.

"You don't play fair," he groaned as her tongue drew a line of fire up to the small of his back.

"Neither do you," she replied.

"How's that?" He said as she released him.

"I won't let you shut me out of this," she replied, and he shrugged on the tee shirt and turned to face her.

"I don't want you hurt," he said, reaching out to brush his thumb across her cheek.

She covered his hand with hers and looked steadily back at him. "It's my job to protect you, partner. Being engaged doesn't change that."

"What if it does for me?" He asked hesitantly.

"Then this isn't going to work," she replied, standing and trying to move past him.

He stopped her and pulled her close, suddenly worried he had spoiled it all. "But things have changed, Kens."

"Not that, Deeks. Not that," she replied adamantly. "You think I'm going to let you go after these guys without me as backup? That's not going to happen. I love you…and I'm going to marry you. I don't want you hurt either, so stop treating me like some fragile little bride-to-be."

"I know," he said, laughing softly. "You're Wonder Woman, a ninja bride-to-be warrior."

"Put that in our wedding vows," she said cockily. "Cause that ain't gonna change after we're married."

"Got it."

"Good. Now put on some pants before I throw you on the bed and have my way with you."

"It's early. We still have time to fit that in," he said, as he reached up under her tank top.

"Well at least that hasn't changed," she replied, her brilliant smile warming him even as she moved away.

A soft knock at the door distracted him as he started to follow, and Kensi caught his eye as she headed for the bathroom.

"Deeks? You awake, brother?" Callen whispered through the door.

"Yeah…just not completely dressed yet," Deeks said as he pulled the door open a crack. "What's happening?"

"DOJ's involved," he replied, and not looking happy. "They sent over a bunch of FBI guys and are flying us back to DC as soon as possible. Want us all in protective custody."

"Does that include Joe and his family?"

"Just Joe."

"Sonofabitch."

"Get dressed. We're all in the kitchen," Callen said, his eyes sharp and focused.

By the time he and Kensi joined them, a team of FBI agents were crowding the kitchen and one was already issuing orders, which didn't appear to sit well with Hetty and especially not with Joe. He was nose to nose with the lead agent who made the mistake of putting a hand on Joe's chest as they argued over the fact that no provisions had been made for his family. Deeks pushed between them before things got out of hand, but the agent didn't seem to be aware of how close he'd come to being punched in the face. The man raised his voice to arrogantly remind Joe he was a civilian now, and no longer had any standing with the FBI or the DOJ, and that all of them were subject to his command.

"Excuse me?" Hetty said as she moved up to confront the man. "Agent DeRosa, is it? In case you weren't informed, which I find highly unlikely, I am the one with seniority here, not to mention the fact that you're in my house by invitation."

"I've been charged with delivering the men slated to testify in a high profile case to a plane that will take them to Washington," DeRosa said. "That takes priority over who you are and where we are."

A slow smile spread across her face and Deeks grinned and turned to see Callen smirk at Sam, who was shaking his head, all of them watching to see what would happen next.

"I know all about you and your team and your reputation," the agent continued.

"Do you now?" She replied with a growing look of amazement.

"But, none of that changes the present circumstances," Agent DeRosa replied, standing his ground. "It's protocol, Miss Lange, and I suggest you follow it."

"Oh my. Aren't you full of yourself this morning, Agent DeRosa?" Hetty said, smiling up at the man. "Now, let me tell you what's going to happen in the next hour. My team will be having a very nutritious breakfast together while I brief them on the latest intel on the man who tried to have them all killed last night. And to make things even clearer, you and your men will not be a part of that briefing or the breakfast. So, please follow my two tactical agents, Louis and Biggs. They will show you and your men where you can wait until I call for you. And, I suggest you think very carefully about arguing with me. I don't take kindly to being disobeyed."

She swept her arm toward the French doors where Louis and Biggs waiting in full tactical gear.

"Those are not my orders, ma'am," Agent DeRosa protested.

"No, they're mind," she said firmly. "Of course I'm more than willing to call the Deputy Assistant Attorney General of the National Security Division and let you talk to him. Mr. Bellamy is a friend of mine, but if you're lucky, he might be interested as to why you refused to follow the orders of your superior."

The man finally realized he was fighting a losing battle and drew himself up to his full height and without another word, motioned his men to follow him out the door. Deeks got a nod and a grin from Airball and Slingshot before they followed the men out and ushered them down to the lower patio.

"I'm not going to DC without knowing my family's safe," Joe said as soon as the door closed.

"I can assure you Mr. Atwood, they will be safe here with me," Hetty said quietly. "There will be a tactical squad here around the clock and Miss Blye will watch her back."

"I thought I was going to Washington with Deeks?" Kensi quickly questioned. "I'm his partner, Hetty. I need to watch his back."

"And it was always my intention that you were to accompany him, Agent Blye," Hetty said. "However, things have changed since last night's attacks and the powers that be have their panties in a bunch over it. I'm afraid I was overruled."

"I'll watch out for him, Kensi," Joe said earnestly. "And it would sure make me feel better if you were here watching out for Chris and Di. She's just a few of weeks into her second trimester…"

"I know…don't worry. I'll protect her," Kensi said quickly.

"We won't let anything happen to your fiancé, Kens," Callen assured her, throwing an arm across Deeks' shoulders.

"Not before he picks a Best Man, that's for sure," Sam laughed.

Kensi nodded her agreement, but Deeks could see she was not happy, and if he were being honest, neither was he. The thought of being away from her right now was painful.

"Can I at least ride with him to the airport?" Kensi asked as she took his hand.

"It's a private airstrip," Hetty replied. "And I see no harm in it."

"Thanks, Hetty," Deeks said.

"Now, a buffet breakfast awaits you all in the dining room," Hetty replied and led the way out of the kitchen. "I had a tray sent up to Diane and little Chris. Apparently he was quite excited about being allowed to eat in bed. Forgive me, if it spoils him."

"He could use some spoiling after last night," Joe said quietly.

The breakfast spread was impressive, and Deeks couldn't help but smile at how much food Kensi managed to pile on her plate. She stayed close, bumping into him as he moved along a buffet line that would have fed everyone in OSP. He found he wasn't very hungry, but settled on a small veggie omelet and a couple of crispy pieces of bacon. When he got to the table, Kensi slid into the chair next to him and plopped a large muffin on his plate.

"There's a bite out of it," he said softly, picking up the muffin to examine it. "Was there something wrong with it?"

"I was just making sure it was a kind you'd like," she replied.

"Tell me you didn't take a bite out of all of them," he said with a grin.

"Course not," she snorted, kicking him lightly under the table. "Now shut up and eat your apple pecan muffin."

The conversations were sparse and limited to the food until Nell walked in, looking tired, but all business. After more coffee was poured, Hetty nodded to her and she took a deep breath and flipped open a laptop, turning it so they could all see the screen.

"I'm sure you remember Jacob Pensky, the member of Pierce's cabal who's been cooperating with the government," she said. "Well…very early this morning he was kidnapped from what everyone thought was a secure location in a wooded area in Virginia. The small cabin, a supposed safe house, was filled with a gas that rendered everyone inside unconscious. When one of the agents woke up, Pensky was gone."

"Sonofabitch," Deeks said.

"Do they think he was complicit?" Callen asked.

"No one knows," Nell replied. "That's why the FBI was sent here to immediately take all of you into protective custody."

"They couldn't protect Pensky, so why should we believe they can protect us?" Callen asked, his tone surly and sharp.

"We should look out for ourselves, Hetty," Sam said. "Get to DC on our own."

"Somebody on the inside compromised Pensky's location," Joe added. "How do we know our departure isn't compromised as well? Or this place? Hell, after what happened to me, I have to tell you, I don't trust these guys."

"I may not like that cheeky FBI agent, but he was chosen because he has a sterling reputation and was recommended by your former boss, Roger Stinson," Hetty said firmly. "Plus I had them shadowed all the way here to make sure they weren't being tailed."

"They missed someone still loyal to Harrison White when they cleaned up Pierce's mess," Sam stated. "I still think we should play this as an undercover op and get to Washington on our own,"

They all watched Hetty as she slowly stirred her cup of tea, and Deeks knew she was seriously considering that scenario.

"Divide and conquer, Hetty," Callen said softly.

"Many a commander has thought that, Mr. Callen, only to be defeated," she replied. "There is something to be said for strength in numbers."

"Maybe Maddox didn't followed the FBI here," Deeks reasoned. "But, what if he went after the plane instead?"

"Easier to take us all out at once if we're on the same plane," Sam warned.

"Not much of a trial without witnesses," Deeks said.

"They can't take us out if they don't know where we are," Callen said.

Hetty began to nod her head. "Alright…lay it out for me."

"Kensi and I volunteer to go undercover as a married couple," Deeks said hurriedly, grinning cockily, and making them all smile.

"Honeymooning in the nation's capitol," Kensi added.

"Yeah…that's a real stretch," Joe said lightly, smiling for the first time that morning. "Guess I'll be the odd man out."

"Not happening, brother," Deeks quickly said.

"I'm not an invalid, Marty," he snapped back. "And I'm still damn good at undercover work, in case you've forgotten."

"Deeks is right, Joe," Callen said. "Anyway, Maddox and his operatives might be looking for Sam and I together, so it makes sense that you and I partner up. Maybe go as businessmen on our way back to corporate headquarters. Each team can take a different flight from different airports. I don't think they have the capability to monitor all of them."

"Where does that leave me?" Sam asked.

"You can be my fake husband," Safa Jordan said as she stepped inside the dining room.

"Oh, sorry," Nell said. "Forgot to mention she was coming."

"So you're not really missing," Sam laughed as he stepped up to hug her.

"Just watching my own ass," she said. "Got to the front door of my apartment in Prague and noticed my detection device was no longer secure. Got out of there as fast as I could. Went dark and headed home. Called Bellamy from the airport and he brought me up to speed on what's been going on. Thought you might need my help so I called Nell, and here I am."

"You must be exhausted, dear," Hetty said. "Help yourself to the buffet and there is tea or coffee."

"Callen. Deeks. Good to see you both on your feet and looking healthy," Safa said, ignoring Hetty's offer. "Joe…sorry you're still in the middle of all this."

"They went after my family," Joe replied sharply. "I'm in it till those bastards are taken out."

"Surprised your wild Indian cousin isn't here," she said, as Sam handed her a cup of coffee.

"They hit my dad's ranch. Tried to kidnap Elan's boy," Joe said. "That didn't work out so well for the men who tried."

"Not surprised," Safa said as she took a sip of coffee, her eyes settling on Kensi. "Please tell me you don't belong to one of these ugly bastards."

"I don't belong to anyone," Kensi said slowly as her eyes flashed with irritation.

"Then who gave you that lovely ring?" Saga asked.

"That would be this ugly bastard," Deeks said cockily.

"Always thought you were lucky," she laughed. "Now I have confirmation. Congratulations, I hope you both find all the happiness in the world. Make it last as long as you can."

Kensi took his hand and kept silent, but he could feel the tension coursing through her. She didn't like people assuming things about her, and trusting someone new never came easily, especially if she thought she was being belittled. Safa was a beautiful woman and an excellent field agent, tall and obviously in great shape, her brown skin flawless. Kensi was a very competitive person, and he smiled and wondered if she was sizing the woman up, trying to figure out if she could take her. He had no doubts who would win that contest.

"So…what's the plan?" Safa asked as she picked up a croissant and tore off a tiny piece.

"To ditch the FBI," Callen said with a smirk.

…

…


	9. Chapter 9

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 9_

…

After all these years Deeks was still surprised at how quickly Hetty could put an intricate plan in place, especially with Callen's help. Once she was on board with the idea of them ditching the FBI, her mind seemed to race with very specific ideas. He thought she enjoyed the deception, which was probably one of the reasons she was so good at it. She'd been running ops for a very long time, and she didn't like being told what to do by anyone, even the DOJ and especially not by someone as impertinent as Agent DeRosa. He understood that from experience, and was looking forward to seeing how she played the man, just happy it wasn't him on the receiving end of her mind games.

"Alright everyone, game faces on. I'm calling in our FBI escorts," she said, sounding almost chipper. "Now would be a good time to put in your comms. I don't intend to lose track of any one of you. Pertinent information and the addresses where you'll be staying in Washington will be sent to your new phones. Mr. Beale has them and will be tracking you."

Nell had left a half hour earlier after calling Eric and rousting him out of bed. Apparently he'd been here half the night trying to track down Weston Maddox. Now he had to help Nell create aliases for all of them. Safa had gone back to Ops with her, Callen thinking it best the FBI didn't know she was alive and well. She'd be safer if the FBI had been compromised and it was good to have her as the team's ace in the hole.

"Ah, Mr. DeRosa. Thank you for your patience," Hetty said as the man and his agents came in, the team glowering at him as if angry they had to be handled. "My team has been briefed and fed and are ready for departure. However, there is one small glitch that needs to be taken care of."

"What glitch?" DeRosa asked, stopping short, his forehead scrunching into a deep scowl.

"Clothes, Mr. DeRosa. Clothes," she said with a smile. "They have none. Except what they're wearing. You can't expect them to appear in court dressed as they are now. I highly doubt the Attorney General would appreciate them showing up in jeans and tee shirts."

The man looked pissed as if someone other than himself should have thought of that, playing right into Hetty's hands.

"It appears someone higher up dropped the ball on that, but don't worry, I have a solution," she offered very kindly. "We maintain an extensive wardrobe for our undercover assignments, and I have ordered an ensemble of appropriate outfits for everyone."

"When will they be here?" He asked, sounding irritated as he checked his watch.

"I can see you're on a tight schedule and I'm afraid it might take too much time to have them sent here," she said as if she'd just realized it. "Why don't you simply drop us at the office and they can pick up what they need while you wait for us at the boatshed."

"Boatshed?" He seemed confused and growing more irritated by the minute.

"The boatshed is where we meet with people like you," Callen said, amused as the agent fumed.

"I'm afraid you and your men don't have the necessary clearance to enter the Office of Special Projects," she replied kindly.

"I'm not supposed to let any of you out of my sight," he blustered.

"Hey! Do we look like little kids to you?" Sam snapped. "I think we know how to dress ourselves and find our way to our own boatshed."

"I don't think he trusts us, Sam," Callen said, looking hurt.

"We're all on the same side, aren't we Agent DeRosa?" Deeks asked softly. "Look, man. We're still a little jumpy after what happened last night. You can understand that, right? We just want to get this over with."

"Okay, but this better not take long," he finally said. "I have a jet with a crew standing by ready for takeoff."

"I'm sure the pilots will acquiesce to any orders you may give. They are under your command," Hetty said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have wardrobes to prepare. Please take care."

She was gone before DeRosa had a chance to question what had just happened, and Sam didn't give him time to think about it.

"We going or what?" He asked, showing maximum irritation as only Sam can.

"What kind of van did you requisition for us?" Deeks asked, wanting to distract the agent even more. "A roomy one, I hope. Sam doesn't like to rub shoulders with anybody. Makes him grumpy…or grumpier than he already is. Just ask Callen."

"Yeah Callen. Tell him about that time in San Diego. You know…the one when you two were forced to chase down a suspect in a Mini Cooper," Kensi added, giving the agent her best smile and probably scaring him with her disturbing cackle.

Their improv performance just seemed to irritate the agent even more, and he rolled his eyes and grunted as he turned and led the way into the living room, expecting them to follow. At the base of the stairs they were greeted by a yawning little boy in pajamas, clutching a stuffed toy pony.

"Hey little guy," Joe said, rushing to pick him up. "Where's mommy?"

"Sleeping," Chris replied as he stared at DeRosa. "What's your name?"

The rigid facade of the agent crumbled, and a small smile broke through. "I'm Jonah."

"Like the man in the whale?" Chris asked.

"Yeah. Like that," he replied.

"It's gotta be dark and scary in a whale," Chris said, tucking his head into his father's neck as he hugged him. "Are you Daddy's friend?"

"Yes, I am," DeRosa replied quietly.

"Don't you let nobody hurt 'im…'specially in the dark," Chris said, causing Joe to look over at Deeks, his eyes full of worry about the fear last night's attack had left in his son's mind.

"Lots of sunshine this morning," Agent DeRosa said lightly. "Didn't see anything scary outside or inside. No whales to worry about."

"Promise?" Chris asked.

"You have my word as a federal agent," DeRosa said, standing to attention and saluting. "And we're not allowed to lie."

"Me neither," Chris said, finally smiling at the man.

"You going?" Diane asked softly as she made her way down the stairs and took little Chris from Joe.

"Yeah. Jonah here is our escort," he replied.

"Do you have children, Jonah?" She asked.

"Two girls, ma'am. Three and six," he replied.

"Then you understand," she replied. "Be safe. All of you."

She kissed Joe and nodded at Deeks and the others as she passed them on her way to the kitchen. Deeks knew she was still scared, and not too happy that Joe had been dragged back into this life, so he turned to catch the attention of the two NCIS tactical agents, Louis and Biggs.

"Don't let those two out of your sight," Deeks said, his voice breaking as he thought about how scary last night must have been for the little boy and his mother. "Please."

"Copy that, sir," both agents said in unison.

"No need to ask, Deeks," Louis said. "Watch your six, man. We'll take care of things here."

"Thanks, buddy," he replied.

The drive down to OSPs was made in silence, but Deeks could feel the wariness building in all of them. The plan to separate made sense, but it also left him concerned. They knew very little about their opponent, and the idea that he wouldn't have eyes on the others or know where they were, bothered him. He could only hope Hetty would have new intel on Maddox by the time they arrived, otherwise they would be flying blind.

Agent DeRosa had agreed to drop them off in a parking garage under an office building two blocks up from OSPs, but he looked pissed when they got out.

"If someone doesn't meet me at the coordinates you gave me within the hour, I'm having my techs track your phones," he said forcefully.

"Told you he didn't trust us, Sam," Callen smirked.

"You're right, I don't," DeRosa said with a slight smile. "Like I said…I read your files and I know your reputation for doing things your own way. I'd hate to have to cuff all of you to get you on that plane, but I will if I have to, and that includes you Agent Blye."

"And here we thought you were just a big old softy…playing nice with Joe's little boy," Deeks said, without a hint of a smile. "And as for cuffing my fiancé? Good luck with that."

The man shot a glance at Kensi, who gave him that stony stare she usually reserved for suspects, and Deeks saw a sliver of doubt cross his face.

"I'm doing my job and I expect your cooperation," he said, easing his rigid stance. "Now go get dressed in something that makes you look like federal agents."

"Ouch! That cut deep, Jonah," Deeks said with a cocky grin.

"Face it, Agent Deeks. With that hair, no one will take you for an agent," the man shot back.

"That's part of his charm," Kensi said as she took his hand and tugged him toward the elevators. "Among other things."

"One hour. No more," DeRosa called out as they scattered.

…

Hetty met them in the middle of OSPs, waiting until all of them straggled in before motioning them to follow her into the bullpen. Nell was standing in front of the big screen while Eric nodded at them and yawned.

"Sorry…only two hours sleep," he said softly.

"Anything new on Maddox?" Callen asked.

"He's in the wind," Nell said. "But this came in a little while ago."

A large picture of Jacob Pensky filled the screen, but from the look on Nell's face Deeks guessed they didn't have good news. The picture that flashed up next confirmed it.

"They hung him?" Joe voicing everyone's shock.

"Among other things," Hetty said.

A crudely painted sign reading "traitor" had been pinned to his chest with a Ka-Bar knife, and it was obvious he'd been tortured.

"This is a message to us," Sam said quietly.

"Yes it is," Hetty replied.

"Why torture him?" Deeks asked. "He couldn't have had any new information or know our location."

"Punishment," Hetty said softly. "For betraying the cause."

"These guys are hard core," Sam said. "We need to go dark and we need to move now. Did Weston Maddox do this personally?"

"The DOJ doesn't think so and has a team trying to track him down," Nell reported. "We're helping them compile a list of men most likely to be loyal to him and to General Rasmussen."

"Hetty, we should be the ones going after this guy," Callen insisted.

"That is not your job, Mr. Callen. Testifying in court is," she replied firmly. "Now, I have packed suitcases of each of you, and your undercover outfits are in wardrobe. Get yourselves to Washington. Nell has made reservations for each team at different airports and has documents for each of your aliases and enough cash to keep you off this maniac's radar."

"Hetty…" Callen looked ready to explode, but she calmly stared back at him until he broke the standoff.

"Your job today, Mr. Callen, is not to get caught," she said gently. "And in two days the men who caused all this grief will be brought before a court of law to answer for what they've done and for what they tried to do to this country. You all need to be in that courtroom. There will be no justice without your testimony."

"She's right, G," Sam said.

"I know. I just don't like it," he replied.

"Sam said you were the lone wolf type," Safa said as she walked into the bullpen, pausing to strike a pose before making a full turn, showing off her short, tight fitting low cut dress and long legs that ended on three inch heels. A wig of long, bouncy curls managed to cover both cheeks, which combined with the sunglasses she was wearing, would make it difficult to identify her. She wore an expensive gold watch and a wide gold bracelet circled her left wrist. Multiple strands of a gold necklace snaked down to just above her breasts, guaranteeing that most men wouldn't be looking at her face.

"Damn, woman. I thought we weren't supposed to stand out in a crowd," Sam said with a broad smile. "You look incredible, and nothing like you looked before."

"Wanted to look like a woman who wouldn't lift a finger if she thought she might break a nail," Safa replied, flashing long red nails in front of her face.

"Michelle will not be happy about this," Callen said under his breath.

"Mr. Hanna, you're up next," Hetty said as she beckoned for him to follow. "How do you feel about a wig?"

Sam's expression made Deeks laugh out loud until Hetty turned to him with a critical look in her eye. He took a step behind Kensi, but she just smile and took his arm, semi-dragging him forward.

"You're not cutting my hair, Hetty," he said, a slight shiver of remembrance moving like a shadow through his mind.

He suddenly felt Joe and Callen step up close behind him and he realized the same memory had struck them.

"Of course not, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said with understanding. "I was thinking a pretentious pony tail and perhaps a jaunty newsboy cap. A clean shave and sunglasses should help as well. I'm sure you won't have any trouble playing a convincing movie director. On his honeymoon, of course."

He hadn't realized the tightness in his muscles until then, and he blew out his breath and smiled. "I'll go method. Like a young James Cameron. Kensi can be the Hollywood starlet I married."

"And I have the perfect outfit for you, my dear," she said, ushering them toward wardrobe.

The next half hour was spent getting dressed and settling into disguises as they adjusted to their temporary aliases. Sam came out dressed entirely in black and wearing a stylish Afro wig that practically had Callen in tears. Joe had his hair cut shorter and when he stood next to Callen in their matching pale grey suits, they looked like brothers, even though Joe was taller. Callen now had brown eyes, thanks to contacts, and Joe wore the ugliest pair of glasses Deeks had ever seen, but it was Kensi who made them all stop talking and stare, including Safa.

Her dark hair was piled in a messy mass on top of her head, and long stringy bangs hung in her eyes and longer strands curled down along her cheeks. Small round eyeglasses, with tinted blue lenses hid her unusual eyes and matched the oversized sweater she was wearing over tight fitting, ripped black jeans and knee-high black leather boots. A cropped leather jacket topped it and a long, wild patterned scarf wrapped loosely around her neck and hung to her knees. Deeks realized he was holding his breath, and when Joe gave him a shove in the back, he stumbled toward her.

"You look amazing," he whispered.

"Really? It's not too grungy looking?" she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Have you looked in the mirror, Sunshine?" Deeks said, smiling with disbelief. "You look better than any one of the Kardashians on their best day. You're gorgeous and sexy as hell."

"This is what the Hollywood stars wear when they go out these days," Hetty said. "Besides, you're booked on a flight to Denver. You'll thank me when you get there. It's snowing."

"I have everyone's itineraries," Nell said breathlessly as she hurried into wardrobe. "Sam and Safa will be flying out of John Wayne Airport in Irvine as Cassie and Howard Spinks. Initial destination Las Vegas."

"Spinks? That's the best you could come up with?" Sam grumbled, getting an exasperated glare from Nell, who ignored him as she tried to continue over the soft laughter of the team.

"Callen, you and Joe need to get a move on. You're flying out of Ontario as Gregory and Gordon Griffin on your way to Dallas for a pharmaceutical conference. And Kensi and Deeks are departing from Burbank as Jessica and Eli Masterson on their way to their honeymoon in Aspen. As cool as that sounds, you will be spending the night in Denver. I couldn't get you a flight to DC until early tomorrow. The rest of you have slight layovers before boarding your final flights to Washington."

Eric was yawning as he began handing out new phones and collecting their old ones.

"Your backstories are on your phones. Memorize and delete. None of the backstopping goes too far back…just a few years, but enough to convince someone if they don't dig too deep. And Sam? Spinks was a boxer…"

"Don't worry about it, Eric. I'll get used to it," Sam said, squeezing the shoulder of the obviously exhausted tech.

"Your alias is a boxer, too," Eric added. "Seemed logical to me with…you know…"

"It's fine, but I better have won all my bouts," Sam laughed.

"Don't worry, dumpling, I'll brag about you to whoever will listen," Safa said with an exaggerated southern twang.

"Are our security cameras getting this? Cause all this…Sam with that twisted Afro…being called dumpling…it all definitely needs to be recorded and archived for future viewing," Deeks said, giggling until he got a death glare from Sam.

"I'll bring the popcorn," Callen added, smirking at his partner.

"Focus people. Your cars are waiting outside. I've chosen appropriate models for each of your aliases and none can be tracked," Hetty informed them. "Stay aware, people. These bastards play for keeps."

"Who gets to go to the boatshed to tell DeRosa no one's coming?" Deeks asked her.

"I need you and Kensi to go. Stall him for a bit," she replied. "Your departure point is closer to the boatshed, and it'll give the others a head start. I'm sure he's getting antsy by now given the time. I'll show up with some excuse that will allow you two to get away."

"It won't work, Hetty. DeRosa's not stupid. He's gonna get suspicious the minute he sees Deeks in that get-up," Sam said, shaking his head. "He might buy Kensi's outfit, but no way he believes Deeks dresses like that to travel. Hell, he won't believe he ever dresses like that."

"He's gonna wonder why he shaved too," Callen added.

"So you're saying I'm too cool and too attractive?" Deeks said cockily, as he adjusted the collar on his expensive, indigo linen shirt.

"Yeah…that pony tail makes you all kind of adorable, brother," Joe laughed, slapping him on the back.

"You're all just jealous 'cause I'm the only one with enough hair to have one," Deeks said, grinning proudly.

"Sam's got hair. It's just not his," Callen said with a look of amusement that Sam clearly didn't appreciate.

"No more time for foolishness, people," Hetty finally said. "Mr. Deeks can wait in the car while Kensi makes excuses for why you're all late."

Once that was decided, they headed outside to check out their transportation. A black town car with a driver waited for Callen and Joe, while Sam whistled as he circled the silver Escalade parked in front.

"What about us, Hetty?" Kensi asked.

Your car is behind Sam's Escalade," she said quietly.

"A Prius?" Deeks sputtered. "Seriously?"

"Your alias is quite concerned about the environment," Nell said with mock seriousness.

"And it certainly won't stand out in LA traffic," Hetty added. "Now get a move on. I'll see you in Washington."

The town car glided out first, followed closely by Sam, who passed it before they got to the end of the block. Deeks frowned as he drove the Prius silently out onto the street and toyed with the idea of giving Nell and Hetty a pointed sign of his unhappiness, but thought better of it as he tried to settle into his alias.

"Don't be so grumpy," Kensi said. "This can be practice for our real honeymoon. Nell told me the townhouse they set up for us in Georgetown is pretty cool."

"Really? I hope the food they stocked it with isn't all vegan," Deeks said. "My alias is probably as concerned about what he eats as he is about fossil fuels and emissions."

"It's only for a few days, baby," Kensi said as she slid her hand over his thigh.

"I'll remind you of that when there's only soy milk to drink and no donuts or bacon," he said, grinning as he watched her smile disappear.

"That's not happening," she said promptly, and he lifted her hand to kiss the back of her fingers.

"If it does it'll be the least of our worries," he replied.

"Think this'll work?" She asked quietly.

"Just keep your gun handy," he replied.

"It's in this monstrosity of a designer purse," she grumbled, holding it up so he could see it. "It's purple, Deeks. And fussy."

"Fussy?"

"You know…it has all these dangly things and pockets for stuff I don't own," she complained, staring at the bag as if it were completely foreign to her.

"As long as you can find your gun in it, it doesn't matter," he said.

"You're right…sorry."

"Better leave it in the car when you go in to talk to DeRosa," Deeks suggested. "He might not believe you can afford a bag like that on a government salary."

"It does look expensive," she said.

"Hetty loves dressing us up in expensive things," Deeks said with a grin. "And then docking our paychecks if we're forced to fight off bad guys in them."

"Then ditching the bad guys is a good idea."

"Now let's go ditch the good guys."

…

The muscles in Weston Maddox's jaw flexed repeatedly as his patience thinned. He texted his source for the third time and was assured once again that this was the place his prey would be gathering. He felt anxious and exhilarated at the same time, almost salivating at the thought of watching them bleed out in front of him. He still felt angry that his squads had failed to end their lives the night before, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt it was meant to be. All this waiting had given him time to construct a new scenario, one a lot more hands on then a simple, sudden death. He didn't think his brother had suffered very long before he died, but he began to feel it would be fitting that his killers did. He knew the value of bringing a man to the brink of death. There was beauty in it and you heard the most amazing confessions when a man thought he was about to die. It was almost poetic and most certainly a thrill he never tired of. He wanted them to know who he was and who his brother had been. He wanted the killer to regret what he had done just as he regretted the suffering he had caused his brother throughout their childhood. This was his way of atoning for that sin. His killer would atone for his by shedding his own blood. Watching the life fade from the killer's eyes as he whispered his brother's name in his ear might finally bring him peace.

…

…


	10. Chapter 10

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 10_

…

Maddox ordered his men to be silent as he compulsively scanned through the photos on his tablet once again, familiarizing himself with the faces of the people responsible for bringing down the General and causing his brother's death. The witness list had been obtained from the General's attorney, and Rasmussen's adjutant had managed to secure their photographs. A classified debrief of the entire op had been secretly scanned and sent to him a few days before. He'd read through it several times, especially the section on how his brother had been attacked from behind and stabbed to death. He'd crushed the printout in his fist the first time he read it, and now stared at the photo of the man responsible. He had initially discounted the man, unwilling to believe that someone who looked like a fucking hippy could possibly overpower and kill his brother. It had been a lapse of judgment on his brother's part, and he silently cursed him for allowing the man to take him unawares. Their father would have punished him for that. Now it was up to him to punish his killer and he found he was looking forward to it.

The sniper on overwatch gave him a heads up, and he raised his binoculars as a silver Prius pulled up next to the van in the parking lot. A woman got out on the far side and smiled at the driver. She was quite beautiful and he was confused as to who she might be and why she was here. He cursed the fact they'd been unable to hack into the NCIS database and pull all the personnel files for the Office of Special Projects. He didn't like incomplete intel.

He resumed his surveillance and focused on the driver, but he was wearing a cap and sunglasses, his hair pulled back into a ridiculous ponytail, so he couldn't be certain he was one of the men he was after. He was blond however, and it suddenly struck him that the man was trying to disguise his true appearance.

"It's him," Maddox growled under his breath. "That's the bastard who killed my brother."

"Where are the others?" His second in command asked. "Our intel says there should be four men. No mention of a woman."

"Shut up, Becker, and focus," he snapped. "Something's not right here. Why the stop here? And why did the FBI show up alone?"

"We know this isn't the primary space for the Office of Special Projects," Becker said. "Maybe they stopped there first before meeting up with these FBI bozos."

"Could be, but this guy looks like he's undercover," Maddox said quietly. "There's no reason for that unless they're gonna screw their FBI escort."

"You think they're taking off on their own?"

"These guys are the undercover agents that infiltrated The Brotherhood and took down Pierce, White and the General," Maddox growled. "Don't underestimate them. You did that last night. No. These guys are scattering. No one else is coming."

"So what now, sir?"

"We take what they give us," he said softly. "Then we play a little game."

…

Deeks watched Hetty park and go in the side door, suddenly anxious to be on his way. Something felt off, and he turned to check the surrounding parking lot and the boatyard. He didn't like being a target. It was unsettling and he moved restlessly in his seat as he waited for Kensi. He shook the feeling off and resumed reading up on the alias Nell had created for him. He knew it was her, especially after her comment about why Eli Masterson drove a Prius.

"I'm on to you, Nellasaurus. No bacon for Deeks in DC is there?" He quickly texted her.

"You know it's bad for you, Eli," she texted back.

"You're mean," he replied.

"Just looking out for your health," came her answer.

He heard the door to the boatshed close and looked up to see Kensi hurrying to the car, and he quickly started it.

"Lets go…DeRosa is definitely suspicious," she said as she slammed the door shut.

Deeks pulled out, the tires spewing gravel as he made a quick turn toward the exit to the boatyard. As they passed through the open chain-link gate, he braked before entering the two-lane road just outside, commenting to Kensi that their fake honeymoon had now officially begun. He looked over at her expecting a smile, but her eyes suddenly went wide as the roar of an engine drowned out her warning. He had no time to react as their car was hit broadside by a dark SUV, shattering the window. The airbag exploded in his face, and his wrist screamed in pain as the steering wheel twisted in his hands. He heard Kensi yelling his name, but it sounded muted and he blinked as warm blood filled his left eye. He struggled to stay conscious, desperately reaching out for Kensi, but her seat was empty.

"Sonofabitch," he choked out and fumbled for his weapon.

He froze when the cool barrel of a gun was pressed deeply into his temple, sending sparkling shards of pain coursing through his head.

"Give it up asshole, or I'll slit this bitch's throat."

The voice came from the passenger side and he saw Kensi in a chokehold, the blade of a combat knife pressed against her jugular. Her head was bleeding and her eyes were barely open and he could see she was close to passing out.

"She's got nothing to do with this," he shouted.

"She does now."

He was suddenly breathless and nodded in resignation, his anger flashing hot as a man reached inside, cut his seatbelt off and popped the airbag. He didn't resist, but cried out as the man grabbed him and dragged him out through the window, roughly shoving him toward a waiting van. He fought them as they tried to force him inside, needing to see Kensi, breathing easier when he saw her hustled into a second car, and wondering briefly why they hadn't just killed them both.

"Get him in the car," someone yelled. "The FBI just woke up."

Deeks thought they might have a chance as he looked back toward the boatshed and saw DeRosa and his squad running toward them firing. He managed to slam one of the men holding him against the doorframe and kicked out at another, knocking him off balance as he fired. As he fought to get away, he caught sight of a muzzle flash from the deck of one of the boats and saw an onrushing agent go down.

"Sniper! Your six!"

His warning shout was cut off as he was yanked into a chokehold, his head roaring in pain as bullets peppered the side of the van, taking out one of his attackers. He struggled to break free as his vision dimmed, any hope violently crushed when he saw DeRosa get hit, his back arching as the bullet struck, his body collapsing like a rag doll, leaving him sprawled in the gravel.

"Jonah…" he whispered, filled with numbing sadness as his world went dark.

…

Hetty came out of the boatshed firing, taking out the sniper with a headshot as he moved position, but not soon enough. Three of the FBI agents were down and she continued to fire on the attackers as she watched Deeks dragged into the back of a waiting van that immediately roared off, following the SUV that was speeding away. She gripped the side of the building as resignation set in and weakness flooded through her. She had failed to keep her people safe and it made her wildly angry. As she stared out at the crash scene and the remaining FBI agents working to save their colleagues, she realized someone was yelling in her ear.

"Control yourself, Mr. Beale," she finally said after taking a deep breath. "Get me multiple ambulances and a tactical squad. Now. We have three men down and Kensi and Deeks have been taken."

"Hetty? What about the others? Should I call them back?" Nell asked in a rush.

Hetty took a moment to think, weighing the consequence of a variety of scenarios.

"Yes, Miss Jones. Send them here to the boatshed," she replied. "And Eric…do not lose track of those vehicles."

"Already on it," he said.

"Nell, please inform Roger Stinson at the FBI that he has men down in the field. Also let him know he has a fox in the henhouse. Someone gave these bastards intel about this location and he better find out who and shut him down."

"But Hetty…"

"I need you to do it Miss Jones," Hetty said firmly. "I'll be on the phone with the Deputy Assistant Attorney General and then SecNav. There's going to be hell to pay after this clusterfuck."

"Hetty? Do you think Deeks and Kensi are still alive?" Eric asked softly.

"If they'd wanted them dead, Mr. Beale, their bodies would be lying out there in the gravel right now," she said calmly. "No. Weston Maddox is setting a trap, and they are the bait."

The two techs kept silent and she walked wearily out into the parking lot as the piercing sound of sirens filled the air. When she reached the first body, she paused, cursing softly under her breath. The second agent was still alive, but he'd suffered grievous wounds and she wasn't sure he would make it, even though a teammate worked feverishly to stop the bleeding. Agent Jonah DeRosa lay face down in the gravel, his death mourned by the two agents standing over him.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, gentlemen," she said softly.

"He had two little girls," one man said.

"Yes, I know."

"We got two of the bastards," the other said bitterly. "Sorry we let them take your people, ma'am."

"This is not on you, gentlemen," she replied, patting one gently on the arm. "Rest assured…we will get them back."

They nodded silently, and she turned away as the ambulances wove past the wreckage by the gate. It was a sad day, but she had to focus and control her anger, and that was something she wasn't sure she could do. She would have to trust that Deeks and Kensi would find a way to survive until they could get to them, but she had no illusions about the shape they would be in when they did. Maddox was looking for his brother's killer and if he discovered he had him in his hands, then Deeks would have to find the strength to survive the man's craving for vengeance.

Her conversation with Morgan Bellamy was relatively short, but punctuated by several explosive expletives. He did inform her that General Rasmussen had been taken into custody and was being held in a secure location without any communication with the outside world. His attorney had protested, but when threatened with arrest as an accessory to Jacob Pensky's death, he shut up. They both knew there were still people on the inside who were loyal to both Rasmussen and Harrison White, and Bellamy was determined to root them out. Evidence at the scene of Pensky's death led them to one of the perpetrators, who was now in custody and being questioned.

Her final call was to Roy Blanchard.

"Hetty."

"Are you alone?"

"Just me and the chickenshits you sent me to interrogate," he drawled out slowly.

"This is for your ears only," Hetty said. "Weston Maddox has taken Deeks and Kensi."

"Dammit ta hell…how did that happen?" He demanded gruffly. "Thought the FBI had their backs?"

"That was the initial plan, but…"

"Y'all changed the plan," he said.

"Yes…and now I have two dead FBI agents, one badly wounded and two of my agents in the hands of a pissed off operative looking for revenge."

"And you don't want me to tell these folks here at the ranch," he replied.

"It would serve no purpose at the moment," she replied, grateful she heard no recrimination in his tone.

"They ain't gonna be happy when they find out," he said. "Especially Elan. That big 'ol Arapaho is gonna have some words for you on that, but you probably ain't gonna understand 'em."

"And I'll deserve them…but right now, what I need is intel," she said firmly. "I need you to find out if your prisoners know where Maddox might be hold up in LA, and the sooner the better."

"I'm guessin' you're pretty damn worried," he said softly.

"They just got engaged," she replied, steeling herself against the emotion that followed her words. "It was good to see them so happy."

"Don't know Kensi too well, but I do know Deeks a little bit," Roy replied. "He's a damn sight tougher than he looks and a hellava lot smarter than he lets on. Hold on to that Hetty, while I get one of these two to give up every damn thing they know."

"Deeks and Kensi are counting on it," she replied. "And Roy? By whatever means necessary."

"Went on that assumption from the beginning," he replied, his tone cold and familiar.

"We can't lose him now," Hetty said softly. "And Kensi has a wedding to plan."

"That boy's gonna owe me a trip to Disneyland," Roy said lightly. "All expenses paid."

"You at Disneyland is something I'd pay to see, Roy," she said, finally smiling.

"I'll call you as soon as I have something."

He didn't wait for a response, but her confidence rose. He was an odd man, an incredible operative, but not one who allowed himself to be caught up in friendships. He respected loyalty and gave his to those he thought deserved it, but to her knowledge he had never gotten terribly close to many people. In their line of work it was difficult. They had talked after everyone returned home to California. It had started out as a debriefing in Safa's rented flat in New Orleans, but once a bottle of scotch appeared, it had degenerated into reminiscing about old operations and finally, after the bottle was empty, he unexpectedly shared his feelings about her team. Roy Blanchard was a loner, much like Callen had been early on, but something about Deeks had gotten under his skin, and she wasn't sure he even understood why. Whether he knew it or not they were kindred spirits, and she was hoping his connection to Deeks would bring out his best interrogation skills.

"Hetty? What the hell happened," Callen shouted in her ear, interrupting her thoughts.

"They were waiting for all of you," she replied quietly, hoping to calm him down. "But only managed to get Kensi and Deeks. I'm sorry, Mr. Callen…"

"Where was the FBI? Didn't they try to stop them?" He asked roughly, his usual control faltering.

"Yes, Mr. Callen, they did, and three were shot down in the attempt," she said. "Agent DeRosa was killed, another is dead and one is critical."

"Was Deeks hurt? He wouldn't let them take him without a fight," Joe cut in to say.

"They crashed into his car, but he was fighting. There were just too many of them, and they had Kensi. The main thing to remember is, they're still alive."

"We made a mistake Hetty," Callen said wearily.

"Yes we did. We underestimated Major Maddox, but that won't happen again," she replied. "We'll get them back, Mr. Callen. And Joe? Until we do, no mention of this to your family. No reason to put them through the same agony as before."

"You're right. It would be too hard on all of them, especially Dad," Joe replied. "But Elan's gonna be pissed. He'd be here in a heartbeat if he knew."

"Of course, but he needs to stay where he is in case Maddox tries to get to your family there," she reminded him. "Now…Sam and Safa just drove up. We need you two here. We have plans to make."

She walked out past the coroner's van and the three remaining FBI agents huddled behind one of the ambulances. Sam and Safa were examining the crash site, and even from a distance she could see Sam's distress. When she reached them, he was staring into the empty Prius, the wig she'd insisted he wear, long gone as was Safa's, who was kneeling beside one of the dead men.

"You think they're still alive?" Sam asked.

"Yes I do, Mr. Hanna," Hetty replied. "Maddox wants everyone who was involved in Louisiana. He somehow got intel that you would all be here, but we spoiled his plans, and he took the only two he could get his hands on."

"So Kensi and Deeks are now the bait to get to the rest of us," Sam said bitterly, looking sadly down at Hetty. "Do you think he knows it was Deeks who killed his brother?"

"I can't disregard that possibility. Not after this," she said. "He knows way more than he should and that's a real problem."

"So there are still a few traitors floating around inside the intelligence community," Safa said as she joined them. "So do we have any new intel on these guys?"

"We're working on that," she replied. "And as soon as Mr. Callen and Joe show up, we'll collect what we know."

"You better have something concrete or those two will lose it," Sam warned.

The screech of tires alerted them to Joe and Callen's arrival, but as the two men hurried toward them, she wasn't prepared for the look of devastation on both their faces. Callen didn't say anything, he just scanned the site of the firefight and then concentrated on the two crashed cars, his eyes full of regret and pain. Joe looked like he was ready to explode, and she knew he was the one they would all have to look out for.

"Forensics not here yet?" Callen asked.

"They're five minutes out," Nell said over comms.

"There's blood on what's left of the window," Joe noted, his voice barely a whisper. "Was Deeks driving?"

"Yes, but from what I could see, he didn't appear badly hurt," she said, trying to reassure him.

"But that bastard has him now, so we don't know what they've done to him since this happened," Joe said, his tone bitter and hard.

"Mr. Beale? Anything on the van and SUV?" Hetty asked over comms.

"Had 'em for a moment, but lost them when they cut through a parking garage," he rushed out. "Still looking."

"Dammit! We need to find them," Joe snapped out.

"He knows that Joe," Hetty said, worried that he was already losing control.

"Come on, brother," Callen said gently as he squeezed Joe's shoulder. "Let's get inside and see what we've got."

They walked back through the parking lot, pausing when they saw one of the remaining FBI agents standing on the deck of the boat where the sniper had been.

"Miss Lange?" One of the agents called out as he walked over and introduced himself. "Agent Hoshida, ma'am. Thought you should know. Agent Wilkes didn't make it."

"I'm so sorry," she replied. "Your boss has been informed and I'm sure someone is on the way to debrief you."

"Until then ma'am…we might have a problem with Connor," Hoshida said, pointing up at the agent on the deck of the dry docked boat. "He and Wilkes were close friends and he's pretty broken up. They served a tour together in Afghanistan."

Agent Connor suddenly disappeared from view and the dead body of the sniper was suddenly shoved over the side of the boat and then kicked free, landing in a heap in the dirt. As the team made their way over, the agent climbed down and stood staring at the dead man, his stance rigid and his hands curling into fists.

"Agent Connor," Hetty said as the man looked up.

"You're the one who took him out, aren't you ma'am?" he said, his eyes hard and glazed with tears.

"I wish it had been sooner," she replied.

"Me too," he said before pulling a cell phone from his pocket and handing it to her. "That's his phone. Might be something there."

"Sorry for your loss," Sam said earnestly.

"It was a good thing the rest of you were late getting here after seeing what this sonofabitch had up there with him," Connor said.

"And what was that?" Callen asked.

"A grenade launcher. It's Russian. The reloadable kind. I figure once you were all in the van he was going to take you out and then us," the agent said. "Not a very secure site if you ask me ma'am, but thanks for taking this bastard out."

He pushed between Callen and Sam and walked resolutely away, leaving them stunned at how close they'd all come to dying if they hadn't made their own plans. Hetty felt the weight of her decision to send Deeks and Kensi to the boatshed to buy time for the others, and Callen seemed to understand that.

"Hetty? This wasn't your fault," he said quietly.

"Isn't it? I should have been the one to come here and stall Agent DeRosa," she said. "If I had, you'd all be safely away, and Kensi and Deeks wouldn't be in the hands of the maniac who planned all this."

"Let's just agree we all feel a little guilty," Safa cut in. "But piling on guilt doesn't get them back."

"She's right," Joe said. "How'd they know about this place, Hetty?"

"Good question," she responded, moving quickly toward the boatshed. The tactical squad and the FBI team had just arrived and she sent Sam to deal with them. Inside the boatshed, they gathered in front of the screen where Nell and Eric waited, the tech furiously typing away on his keyboard and ignoring them.

"Any news on those vehicles, Eric?" Callen asked.

He didn't answer, but he did hold up one finger and they waited silently for him to finish.

"I got 'em," he yelled out in a rush. "Address is on your phones. They just pulled into a parking lot by an abandoned warehouse just east of LAX. Cameras on the building next door show them getting out now. Kensi is walking on her own, but…"

"Eric?" Callen said sharply.

"Deeks appears to be unconscious," he replied quietly. "Two men are dragging him inside the building."

"Lets go get 'em," Joe said, his face fierce with determination.

"You'll be needing a little more firepower," Hetty said, moving quickly to open a cabinet filled with automatic weapons. "Mr. Callen...take half the tactical squad and those two FBI agents. They'll want in on this."

As they geared up, Sam came in with the two FBI agents and a man who shoved past them and confronted Hetty, his face bright red.

"You got my men killed," he blustered. "What kind of messed up agency are you running here?"

"And you are?" She asked.

"Darryl Fawsett, Assistant Director in Charge," he said. "This unit was under my command and I demand to know what went down here."

"I'll be happy to discuss that with you as soon as my agents leave," she said curtly.

"No one's going anywhere until I get some answers." He said, his jaw rigid with anger.

"The hell were not," Joe growled. "We have a location where those assholes are holding my brother and his fiancé. Now get the hell outa my way."

"You're no longer an agent, Atwood," the man replied, grabbing Joe's arm as he tried to go by. "You're no authority to participate in any operation."

Joe raised an MK18 up across his chest and glared at the man. "Ask me if I give a fuck."

"I can have you arrested for threatening a federal agent," the man sputtered.

"If you don't move, they'll be arresting me for shooting a federal agent," Joe said, his voice dangerously low.

"Joe Atwood is part of the task force that took down Harrison White and the traitors he was working with," Hetty said firmly as she forced her way between the two men. "He's under my command and if you don't step aside, I will have you taken into custody."

"You can't do that," Fawsett said, looking flustered and uncertain.

"Try me."

"You two want in on this?" Callen asked the two FBI field agents, Connor and Hoshida. "Cause we're leaving now."

"Damn right," Connor said as he took the weapon Sam handed him.

"We want these guys, sir," Hoshida told Fawsett, standing resolutely in front of him.

"Go."

That one single word sending the team out on their mission without a backward glance.

…

…


	11. Chapter 11

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 11_

…

He slowly became aware of the blood pulsing through his veins, waking to a scorching pain in his head. He decided against opening his eyes, choosing to slowly assess all of his aches before discovering just how screwed they were. The concussion wasn't hard to figure out, or the bloody cuts he'd gotten from the broken window, so he gingerly moved his position and realized his hands were now tied tightly behind his back. His left wrist felt tender and was probably sprained and the whole left side of his body was sore. Shifting his position convinced him that he had a couple of cracked ribs, but it was the debilitating roaring in his head that worried him. He'd had concussions before, so he understood the problems of trying to operate effectively when you had one. He was a bit hazy on the details of what had happened, but he remembered the man's threat against Kensi and he opened his eyes. He was lying face down on a rough concrete floor and he managed to raise his head enough to search for Kensi in the dim light. He didn't see her, and he struggled to look behind him as his heart began beating wildly, seared with a deep, unnerving fear that they had killed her.

"Well, look who's awake," the words punctuated by a hard kick in the ribs.

"Where is she?" He asked, trying to breathe through the pain and fear.

"Who?"

Another kick silenced his smart-ass reply, but it also made him mad. When the man took a step back, he rolled over enough to slam his foot solidly into the man's ankle, satisfied with the responding curse even though the sudden movement made him dizzy.

"Shoulda tied my feet, dickwad," Deeks said with a cocky grin.

He endured the follow up kicks as best he could, smiling when he heard Kensi's voice yelling at him to stop. She was suddenly beside him, but he could only groan out a greeting as he tried to catch his breath.

"Your girlfriend is a handful, Agent Deeks," a deep soft southern voice said just above his head. "I don't want to tie her up, so tell her to behave or I'll have to hurt her and I don't think you want that."

It took a moment, but his muddled brain finally came to the realization that they didn't know who she was or that she was an agent.

"Jessica? Sunshine?" He said. "Just do what he says, okay?"

"I'm scared, baby," she replied and he knew she'd realized the same thing.

"Sorry about the honeymoon," he replied and sadly meant it.

"You two are married?" The voice asked. "You used your new bride as part of your cover?"

"What can I say…she wanted to see Washington and I just happened to be going there," he replied with a grin.

He cried out as he was grabbed by the arms and hauled to his feet to face the man with the deep voice. Weston Maddox was an older version of his brother, but burlier with dark eyes that seemed to be searching for something in his. Stark memories of seeing Beau on top of Callen crawled into his mind as he waited for what came next. He took a moment to look at Kensi and saw raw anger in her eyes. She was waiting for the right time to make a move, and he silently hoped that when it came it didn't get her shot.

"Nathan Maddox was my brother. You knew him as Beau," the man said in a measured tone. "You killed him."

"Two assholes in one family. What are the odds?" He said, flashing a grin.

The slap wasn't hard, more of a wake up signal that he shouldn't be a wiseass, but he'd never let that stop him before.

"He should have wiped the floor with you," the man said, his soft drawl making him seem genteel, which Deeks doubted he was.

"Yeah well, he was busy torturing my brother, so cut him some slack for being distracted," Deeks replied.

"Agent Callen is your brother in arms," The man replied as if he understood the concept, but he said it with distain.

"Yeah, Maddox…and he'll be coming for you," Deeks said, all the humor in his voice gone.

"I'm counting on that, you hippy fuck," Maddox replied coldly with a smile. "We're going to setup a nice little trap for all of your friends."

Deeks looked quickly at Kensi and saw the same desperation in her eyes that he was feeling. They had to do something, but he had no idea if he would be able to help, but Kensi was coiled for action, and that scared him. Seven men surrounded them, and even though they weren't paying attention to Kensi, they were armed. He closed his eyes, trying to think, trying to come up with anything that might get them out of this, because he didn't know what he would do if he had to watch her shot down trying to save him.

"I know OSP's reputation. Probably tracking the cars we were driving when we took you," Maddox continued confidently. "I know they're coming. They just won't find you here."

He held Deeks' earwig up in front of his face and smiled. It had been crushed. What Maddox didn't realize was that Kensi had one too, so the team was listening to everything being said.

"We'll reactivate your phone and leave it here for them to track. When they get here all they'll find is a little bit of your blood," he said softly as he pulled a mean looking combat knife from behind his back. "Our journey is barely getting started, Agent Deeks. This is just the honeymoon."

His laugh was disturbing, but Deeks panicked when the man turned toward Kensi.

"Don't touch her," Deeks warned sharply.

In a split second Maddox grabbed a handful of Kensi's hair and yanked her to him, the knife once again at her throat.

"Why the hell would you marry a little fuck like this, huh sweetheart?" He asked, his mouth against her cheek. "You're a beautiful woman and he's a fucking coward."

He didn't wait for an answer, shoving her into the arms of two of his men before turning his attention back to Deeks.

"You took Nathan from behind, you coward," Maddox growled, anger darkening his face, his eyes brilliantly black and disturbingly cold.

"He was gonna slit my brother's throat," Deeks replied, his eyes on the knife as it moved in front of him, an unsettling and vivid reminder of Guidry. "What would you have done, Maddox?"

"I would have killed you first," Maddox said, without hesitation.

"Yeah…well...guess your brother wasn't as smart as you."

Maddox jaw tightened at his comment, moving closer until he was inches from his face. "Maybe it should be your wife's blood they find here."

"I'm the one who shoved a knife in your brother's back," Deeks said, trying to draw him away from Kensi. "Maybe if he hadn't babbled on and on about the illustrious General Rasmussen he might have heard me coming. Yeah…probably not smart to get caught up in your own obsession when you're trying to kill someone."

The curved butt of the knife caught him just under his left eye and pain exploded in his head. A wave of nausea swept through him as he sagged to his knees, warm blood welling up on his cheek. He was having trouble thinking clearly as the pain in his head intensified, his vision blurring as they pushed him face down on the floor. Maddox straddled him, sitting down hard on his hands and pressing his bleeding cheek into the dirty concrete.

"You both took lessons doing this, yeah?" Deeks managed to choke out.

"Our father was a good teacher," Maddox said, sounding as if this was a normal conversation.

"But, a sick bastard…am I right?"

"Deeks," Kensi yelled out, her voice full of caution, worry and anger.

"You really don't know when to quit, do you?" Maddox laughed. "Got a feeling you pissed your daddy off quite a lot when you were a kid."

"Got the scars to prove it," Deeks whispered wearily.

"Then another won't matter," Maddox replied, slowly drawing the sharp blade of the knife across his shoulder muscle.

He tried to stifle his scream, but failed, breathing rapidly to endure the burning pain. He could hear Kensi calling out his name and cussing out Maddox, but he was fighting the urge to vomit so he decided it was probably not a good idea to open his mouth to say something. Maddox got off of him and he sucked in a breath of stale air as he worked to control the chills rippling through him. Callen hadn't made a sound when Beau tortured him in the same way and he was suddenly very impressed with his brother's endurance. The sound of engines interrupted his thoughts as he was pulled to his feet and forced to walk toward a white panel van with a florist's sign painted on the side.

"Deeks?" Kensi called out and broke free to get to him. "Baby?"

"I'm okay…I'm okay," he assured her, but he could tell she didn't believe him.

"Get them in the van," Maddox ordered. "We have some time to make up."

"Yeah, men…Delivering flowers is a time sensitive business," Deeks said, hoping the team would pick up on the hint.

"Shut up, asshole," one of his escorts growled in his ear as he shoved him into the back of the van.

They allowed Kensi to join him this time, and he was extremely thankful for that. She quickly crawled up behind him and pulled him over into her arms, his head coming to rest in the crook of her arm. She brush the hair out of his eyes and gently stroked his cheek, her hand cool against his overheated skin, and her presence comforting in spite of the fear he still felt for her.

"You're bleeding pretty bad," she said, her eyes glazed with tears, but still full of anger.

"I'm fine…" he lied.

He could hear her asking one of the guards for something to tie around the wound, pleading in a girlish voice that wasn't her. He was suddenly proud of her, proud of her strength and her calmness in this horrible storm they were caught up in. He was starting to fade, but watched her as she ripped open the blood soaked sleeve of his shirt and tore a strip off her scarf to wrap the slash on his arm.

"I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too, baby…now rest," she said more firmly at the end, and he caught a glimmer of hope in her eyes and knew she was listening to the team encouraging her over comms.

He tried to stay conscious, but he drifted into a half sleep, comforted by the warmth of her body. His brothers were coming. All he had to do was hold on until they found them.

"Deeks," her voice was barely a whisper, but it carried a warning.

When he opened his eyes they were still in the barren warehouse and the door to the van was open, allowing them to see what Maddox and his men were up to. There was one guard outside, but he was watching too, as the entire place was methodically wired with blocks of C-4, ready to explode when their team got here.

"They're rigging the place," Kensi said softly, making sure Callen and the others knew just what kind of trap they were walking into.

"Sonofabitch," Deeks whispered, before raising his head to get as close to Kensi's comm as he could. "Stay away, G…please. Follow the florist van."

The guard outside turned when he heard them murmuring and he couldn't risk him discovering that Kensi had an earwig so he began to cuss loudly and yell. "Who's the fucking coward now Maddox?"

His anger roared out as his accusation echoed through the space, and Maddox turned and scowled at him before quickly striding toward the van. Deeks had known all along that they'd been kept alive for a reason, but the stark reality of seeing explosives being set up to kill all the men he cared about, enraged him. He should have known this was Maddox's plan and he silently cursed himself once again for being taken.

He managed to scramble to the door even though Kensi was trying to hold him back, standing unsteadily just as Maddox reached him. The man's punch was powerful and the only thing keeping him on his feet was the iron grip the man had on his shirt.

"You've got no right to call me a coward, you fucking little shit. I'm an honorable soldier," he gritted out. "You and your friends destroyed a plan that would have returned this country to its glory days, one guided by honorable men. You all deserve to be punished for what you did and I'm the one the General tasked with carrying that out."

"You've been drinking the Kool-Aid too long, Weston," Deeks replied, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "Your so-called honorable men were only in it for the money and the power."

The backhand knocked him inside the van and Kensi moved to protect him, but Maddox struck her hard across the cheek and they both ended up in a heap on the floor.

"Let it go, baby," Deeks said softly, not wanting her to be hit again. "He forgot I was there. I heard their plans, Maddox. None of them gave a shit about this country. They were only interested in how much money they could make from the chaos The Brotherhood was supposed to create. It was all about stock prices and who got the bigger boat. Your General was just too blind to see that."

"General Rasmussen is a hero and a visionary," Maddox growled.

"General Rasmussen's back in prison," Deeks said, watching as surprise flared in the man's eyes.

"Didn't know that, did ya?" Deeks said. "You can't save him, Maddox. No matter what you do. It's too late."

"Gag this fucker. I'm tired of listening to his lies," he ordered, his voice harsh with anger as he turned and walked away.

…

Callen forced himself to sound calm as he tried to reassure Kensi over comms that they would get to them and to hang in there, but the comments made by Maddox had disturbed him. He thought they were done with these traitors, thought they were all safe, but now he felt the same fear and growing anxiety he'd experienced in Louisiana. Sam was driving like a mad man, and Joe hung between them, leaning forward as if he could will the car to go faster. They had looked at each other when they'd heard Deeks scream and Callen had seen the color drain from Joe's face, leaving him pale and anxious, but filling the car with curses to hide his fear. Not knowing what the bastard had done to Deeks, or how badly he'd been hurt only added to the sense of urgency they were all feeling. That he was still able to talk gave them some hope, but every time he made a wiseass comment Joe would whisper a curse and call him a dumbass, while Sam would shoot an irritated look his way. Memories of his own torture at the hands of the other Maddox brother had drawn him back into one of the darkest moments of his life. When Beau had that knife to his throat, he'd been sure his life had reached its end and he'd prepared himself to die, and he wondered if Deeks was doing the same thing now.

He'd felt so happy for Deeks when he and Kensi had shared that they were going to get married. Watching him smiling and looking so carefree seemed such a long time ago and it was hard to accept the dark turn their lives had taken. He felt a deep sense of rage, and a look from Sam made him realize he wasn't doing a very good job at concealing that raw emotion.

"We'll get there in time, G," Sam said firmly.

"Guys?" Eric cut in on comms. "Deeks' phone just came online. I'm sending you the location. It's about fifteen minutes away from you."

"No reason to hit the warehouse now. They won't be there," Sam said. "Any cameras around their location so you can track that florist delivery van?"

"I'm on it," Eric said quickly.

"What if they leave a spotter behind to confirm the kill?" FBI Agent Connor asked. "Might make them wonder if we don't show up."

"Good point," Callen said. "There's a bomb expert with the tactical squad. They can head to the warehouse while we follow the van."

"You want to take 'em on the fly?" Joe asked. "How the hell do we do that without getting them both killed?"

Joe was clearly agitated and Callen wanted to reassure him, but he had his doubts as well.

"It's our only choice right now," Sam said, and Joe nodded silently in resignation.

"Kens?" Callen said. "Be ready. I'll let you know when we're close."

"I'm okay, baby," Kensi replied sweetly, doing her best to keep her cover.

"Mr. Callen? I've just received new intel," Hetty said in his ear. "Roy Blanchard has broken one of the men who hit the ranch. Maddox rented a house overlooking Inglewood Cemetery. According to Nell, you should be able to get there before Maddox…"

"How do we know that's where they're going?" Joe blurted out. "Why wouldn't he take them to a more isolated area?"

"I know how concerned you are, Joe," she replied calmly. "But after what I've been hearing from that man over comms, I believe he wants a place that affords him the privacy to deal with Mr. Deeks…"

"You mean torture him," Joe said, his voice breaking with emotion.

"Unfortunately, yes," she replied softly.

"If we get there first we can set up an ambush. They won't be prepared for that," Sam reasoned.

"I say we take the chance while Eric tracks the van," Callen said. "If it looks like the van is headed away from that area we follow."

"God, I hope you're right about this," Joe said quietly.

"We all do," Sam said.

"Would be nice to know the layout before we get there," Agent Hoshida said calmly. "Your techs able to get us an overview?"

"Traffic cams seem to be down in that immediate area," Eric said, sounding frustrated.

"The bastards took 'em out," Agent Connor said gruffly.

"I'll take that as confirmation that our information is correct," Hetty added. "Go, gentlemen. Bring them home."

Sam dropped off the 405 at a high rate of speed and headed into Inglewood. Eric kept up a running commentary on the location of the florist van, and it appeared to also be headed for the house on the far side of the cemetery. It was at least twenty minutes behind them and Callen began to breathe a little easier. Nell was able to get the floor plans for the large two-story house and immediately sent them to their phones. The house sat on a large lot just where the street curved and had a balcony that overlooked both directions.

"I've had sniper training," Connor said. "I can take overwatch."

"You listening Kensi? This guy's after your job," Sam said lightly, even though he knew she couldn't reply. "You'll have to show him how it's done when this is over."

"So she's beautiful and deadly," Connor replied.

"You have no idea," Joe said.

Not hearing Kensi reply left Callen feeling anxious, knowing how hard it must be for her to wait, unable to do anything. He felt a sudden sense of dread that he desperately tried to dispel, staring out at the cemetery as they sped past. He couldn't lose Deeks now, or Kensi either, and he forced himself to focus as they entered the quiet neighborhood where it all would end.

"I'll drop you off and hide the car," Sam said as he wheeled around the curve and stopped abruptly in front of the address.

"We can't risk a firefight in the middle of suburbia," Hoshida said nervously, as they gathered at the rear of the car.

"Then we let 'em get inside before we take 'em," Callen said as he began gearing up. "Connor? What's your first name?"

"Why?"

"Because our names sound too similar and I don't want any mistakes during this op," Callen snapped. "Now what's your damn name?"

"Angus," he replied.

"Your mother named you after a cow?" Sam asked, his smile flickering.

"It's a very traditional Gaelic name," he replied gruffly. "And Black Angus are beef cattle, not cows."

"So you've done research on this?" Callen smirked as he handed the agent a sniper rifle.

"Let's just say you're not the first to give me grief over it," he said, sounding annoyed.

"We doing this or what?" Joe snapped as he turned toward the house.

The others moved swiftly to follow him as Sam drove off to ditch the car. Callen checked with Eric to see how much time they had to set up while Agent Hoshida picked the lock on the door. The air inside was cool as they made their way into the large living room. The shutters were all closed and the furnishings looked old. Bags of gear were neatly stowed along the far wall and when Callen moved into the dining room, he saw several laptops and area maps spread out on the table. Angus Connor headed up the stairs without a word, but when they heard him swear, the others hurried to join him.

"The rightful owner I'm guessing," Callen said as they looked down at a dead man tied up in the corner with his throat slit.

"Poor sonofabitch," Angus said. "Gotta be at least seventy."

"He hasn't been dead long," Hoshida said as he knelt by the body.

"Callen? They just passed the cemetery," Eric warned.

"Angus…you're our eyes," Callen said urgently. "We need to know numbers…"

"And the condition of Deeks and Kensi," Joe interrupted. "I don't want them caught in a crossfire."

"None of us do, man," Sam said as he walked in. "The door to the garage opens into the kitchen. Makes sense they'll come in that way. They won't want the neighbors to see what they're doing."

"Kens?" Callen said softly. "If you're not tied up and able to help, call Deeks Marty."

"Marty, baby," she said softly over comms. "You don't look good."

"We're in the house they're taking you to," Callen told her, worried by her comment. "Be ready."

She said nothing more and Joe looked steadily at Callen, his jaw rigid with determination, but his eyes were clouded with fear.

"Get to Deeks, Joe," Callen said, gripping his arm. "We'll take care of the rest."

Joe nodded and everyone but Angus headed downstairs to get set up. The tension was palpable as they waited, Callen feeling his anger rising the longer it took. Joe was hidden in the pantry just off the kitchen, while Sam and Callen stood behind the walls of the entry to the dining room. Hoshida was in the living room in case someone came in the front door.

"Two vehicles," Angus reported in a whisper from the balcony. "Only have eyes on two in the van. Garage door opening. Sedan parked out front. Four men exiting. Two heading toward garage. Two staying put."

Callen could hear the van as it pulled into the garage, and the sound of its door as it slid open. Multiple voices made it difficult to tell how many they were dealing with, but at this point he really didn't care, he just wanted to get Deeks and Kensi away from the bastards. The door to the kitchen banged open and he heard a low groan as Deeks was shoved into the room and up against the center island.

"Take the woman upstairs," a soft southern voice ordered.

"No," Kensi shouted.

"Kens…get some of them into the living room," Callen said.

Kensi suddenly ran past them with two men cussing and charging after her. Callen nodded at Sam and they both fired. The two went down and Kensi quickly pulled a weapon off one of the dead men's belt and turned to fire at the shocked gunmen still in the kitchen. One fell dead instantly, and Deeks body slammed the other one, who was knocked off balance before he could return fire and shot down by Joe as he stepped out of the pantry. Callen and Sam moved resolutely into the kitchen just as Maddox grabbed Deeks, yanking him into a chokehold and using him as a shield. Callen saw the glint of the combat knife as he dragged Deeks back toward the open door to the garage. The sound of the sniper rifle above him made Maddox freeze, his face a mask of disbelief and rage.

"You're not making it outa here, Maddox," Callen said.

"Let him go you sonofabitch," Joe roared as he took a step toward them.

"I'd rather cut his throat open," Maddox replied, his eyes full of shadows as he tightened his hold on Deeks.

Callen gripped his pistol as he watched his brother struggle to breathe. His arms were tied behind his back and he was tightly gagged. Blood darkened his shirtsleeve and streaked down the side of his face. He'd been beaten and slashed, and Callen's stomach twisted into a knot as he recalled his own run in with a Maddox.

"Your brother tried to slit my throat once," Callen said as he took another step. "Deeks didn't let that happen to me and I'm not gonna let it happen to him."

"Neither am I," Kensi said as she stepped between Callen and Sam, her gun aimed steadily at Maddox.

"Let me guess…you're a federal agent too," Maddox said lightly as if it didn't matter anymore and that scared Callen badly. "Are you even married to this fucking hippy?"

"I'm going to be," she said, her tone leaving no doubt.

"I don't think so," Maddox growled.

Kensi fired a split second later, the bullet hitting the man just above his right eye, knocking him back through the door into the garage with his arm still around Deeks' throat. Joe got to him first, as Sam took the gun from Kensi's hand and shouted to Eric to send an ambulance. Callen was afraid to look, afraid he had failed him when he needed him most. Sam squeezed the back of his neck and pushed him gently forward.

"Go untie your brother, G," he said. "Might leave the gag in for a little while though."

Callen was finding it hard to breathe until he saw Deeks helped to his feet by Joe and Kensi. They stared at each other while Joe cut his hands free and Kensi pulled the gag from his mouth.

"Hey brother…took you long enough," Deeks said wearily, and Callen caught him when he fell.

…

…


	12. Chapter 12

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 12_

…

Some of the voices sounded familiar, but others did not. The smells were a mixture of blood, death, and lavender, adding to his growing confusion, his head pounding from the shrill sound of sirens. Darkness and the slow flapping wings of vultures filled his mind, and that was familiar too. He longed for a comforting voice, one he could cling to, one to help him ride out whatever this was that was holding him captive.

"Deeks?"

He knew that voice, and a rush of adrenaline followed, along with love and fear and the desperate need to fight. She was alone with them and he had to protect her, but a sudden flush of weakness made him doubt he was physically capable, and warm tears welled in his eyes.

"Don't hurt her," he pleaded roughly, his anger mixing with his fear.

"I'm okay, baby. Just open your eyes."

He felt her hands on his cheeks and he needed to see her, but her face blurred when he looked at her, floating above him, just out of reach. The sounds around him made no sense, so he turned to see where he was. It was just an ordinary kitchen except for the dead bodies lying in dark blood, and black, impotent guns lying scattered across the terra-cotta tile.

"He's probably got a concussion," an unknown voice said as he concentrated on not throwing up.

"You think, dumbass?"

"Joe?"

He forced himself up, but his head spun and he groaned at the sudden scream of pain in his arm and side.

"Guidry?" he whispered.

"No, brother."

It was Callen's voice.

"You're safe," he heard him say. "And so is Kensi. Joe's here and Sam."

"Did you get 'im?" He breathed out, finally remembering.

"Kensi did," Joe said.

"Kens?"

"I'm right here," she said softly and he reached for her, realizing he was no longer tied up.

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

"I'm good, baby," Kensi said softly.

His eyes finally focused on her face and she smiled, her eyes full of tears and concern, and he released a long sigh of relief. His brother's knelt down around him and he felt protected and safe for the first time since they'd been taken.

"Help me up," he said.

"The EMTs are here with a gurney," Sam said.

"I can walk."

"You sure? Cause you look like shit," Joe said.

"Doesn't mean I can't walk," Deeks said as he struggled to stand.

Strong arms helped him to his feet and he closed his eyes as the room spun in repeating cycles. When he thought he could move without embarrassing himself by throwing up, he moved cautiously, Callen on one side and Joe on the other, holding him steady with firm grips on his arms. Sam moved closely behind him, while Kensi walked just a little ahead, ordering police officers and forensic people out of their way. He walked out into the bright light of the day and stumbled back as brilliant shards of pain sliced through his head. The once quiet neighborhood was awash in police cars, coroner vans and ambulances, while silent groups of onlookers stared open mouthed at the unfamiliar chaos, it's reality punctuated by two dead bodies in yellow shrouds.

He stared down at the closest dead man, and his mind suddenly kicked back a memory. "DeRosa?"

"Jonah didn't make it," said a man he remembered from the FBI detachment. "We lost two others."

"I'm sorry, man," Deeks replied.

He didn't reply, just simply turned and walked away.

"Come on, Deeks. We need to get you to the hospital," Sam said firmly. "And don't argue. You've lost a lot of blood."

He didn't argue. Whatever strength he still had he used to walk to the back of the ambulance and climb in, gingerly lowering himself onto the gurney. His mind was full of fleeting images and displaced feelings, the voice of Weston Maddox a persistent undertone as he slowly succumbed to the fog in his head and the welcome relief of the pain meds. As he let himself slide toward sleep, he felt Kensi's lips on the back of his hand, and he smiled.

…

Hetty knew they were both safe, but she always thought it best to see things first hand. In her experience, most men seemed to have a tendency to lie about how badly they were hurt, especially her agents, and Deeks fit that profile. Before heading for the hospital she had picked up Safa who was finishing up with the tactical squad at the abandoned warehouse where Maddox had first taken her agents. While the men dismantled the explosives, Safa had searched a small office for any evidence that might have been left behind. Maddox's men had been using the warehouse as a staging area, and she'd discovered a set of burn phones with numbers Eric was now in the process of tracing. They both agreed that it was sloppy to leave them behind, but Maddox had assumed everything would be destroyed when the warehouse blew. The man left behind to set off the explosives had been easily distracted by Safa, realizing too late that she wasn't really a prostitute, but a highly trained operative who easily broke his wrist in order to relieve him of the triggering device, before knocking him senseless. Hetty was becoming quite enamored of the woman.

Safa had gone to look for a decent cup of coffee when the doors to the ambulance bay swung open and the gurney carrying Deeks was pushed inside. The back was raised and he was awake, although he looked quite exhausted and filthy, sweat and blood streaking his face. Joe and Callen hurried in behind Kensi, while Sam headed her way.

"How's he doing, Sam?"

"He was a little out of it after Kensi took down Maddox," he replied. "He lost quite a bit of blood, but the wound isn't deep. The concussion will probably give him the most trouble."

"Will he be able to testify?" She asked, growing concerned.

"You'll have to ask the doctor that, Hetty," Sam said.

"And Kensi?"

"She's madder than hell, but other than that, just some cuts and bruises," Sam said with a flickering smile. "Made a helluva a shot."

"And the others?" Hetty asked, nodding toward Callen and Joe as they argued with one of the nurses about staying with Deeks.

"Being a little overprotective at the moment," he said lightly. "With Maddox dead, is there anyone else we need to watch out for?"

"Not that I know of…yet. I'll brief you all as soon as Mr. Deeks is settled," she replied. "Now, lets go see how he's doing."

When they reached the room where they were working on Deeks, Kensi was insisting she was fine and that the only thing she needed was a shower and a couple of Band-Aids. Callen and Joe stood on either side of Deeks' like guardian angels, the really scary version described in the Book of Revelations. Callen acknowledged her arrival, but Joe never took his eyes off of his brother.

"Ms. Blye? Let them clean you up and put in a couple of stitches, or I'll do it myself," Hetty said, wanting no argument. "I'm sure your fiancé would agree."

"She's right, Kens. I'm okay," Deeks whispered, his eyes tightly shut against the bright lights.

Hetty doubted that assessment. The nurses were cutting off his shirt so they could see what they were dealing with and when she walked around Callen to get a better view, she winced, knowing just how much pain he must be in. His whole left side was heavily bruised, his face peppered with small cuts, and he had a deep gash below his eye and a bloody one just above his temple. The nurses were working to clean him up, while a resident doctor went through the concussion protocol and then ordered he be taken up for x-rays and a CT scan after all his cuts were stitched.

"There shouldn't be any long-term muscle damage from that cut on your arm," the young doctor said. "Thought you were in a car accident? This is a clean cut. Long, but not terribly deep. From experience, I'd say that's a knife wound. You get into it with the other driver afterwards?"

"Something like that," Deeks said softly, opening his eyes slightly to stare at the man.

"Looks like he won," the doctor replied.

"Looks can be deceiving, Doctor," Hetty said. "Now, if you're done interrogating Mr. Deeks, I'd like to know his prognosis. When can he travel? He has to be in Washington."

"I'm good to go, Hetty," Deeks said, sounding irritated.

"Like hell you are, dumbass," Joe said. "Kensi said you threw up in the ambulance."

"I'm not letting those two bastards get away with all the shit they've done," Deeks said through clinched teeth as a nurse continued stitching up the wound in his arm. "I'm going."

"Not today you're not," the doctor said. "You've got a serious concussion. I want to keep you overnight for observation."

"Tell him I can't, Hetty," Deeks said, gripping the sheets as the nurse tied off the last of a long line of stitches in his arm. "Kensi knows what to do for a concussion."

"Is she a nurse?" The irritated doctor asked.

"She went undercover as a Urologist once," Deeks replied, flashing a quick grin at the confused man.

"Deeks. You're staying," Callen said firmly. "The rest of us will go. Our testimony should take at least a couple of days, maybe more."

"Who are you guys?" The doctor finally asked.

"We're federal agents. NCIS…Office of Special Projects," Hetty informed him. "Mr. Deeks? Listen to this nice, but overly inquisitive doctor while I go check on your fiancé. See that your brother obeys orders, Mr. Atwood. Sam…Mr. Callen. We need to talk."

She could see Callen's reluctance to leave Deeks, but Sam gave him a push and he finally acquiesced. They followed her out into the hall and practically collided with Kensi as she was rushing back to be with Deeks.

"They're keeping him overnight, Ms. Blye," Hetty told her. "Keep me posted on his progress. He needs to be sharp during his testimony. If he has trouble remembering, it will give the defense the opening they need to discredit him."

"I will Hetty, but I need to go to Washington with him," Kensi said, intense and determined.

"I agree, Ms. Blye. You're his partner, and if any other bastards pop out of the woodwork, he'll need you to watch his back."

"Are there more of Rasmussen's men out there?" Callen asked, as Kensi pushed past him to go to Deeks.

"I'm afraid there's a cadre of loyalists still at large, and Bellamy believes they're responsible for Jacob Pensky's death," she replied. "Unfortunately we have no idea who they are or where they are."

"We do now, Hetty," Safa said, striding toward them with her phone to her ear.

"What've you got?" Callen asked.

"Eric was able to track a couple of the numbers we got off the phones in the warehouse," Safa said. "They matched one of the numbers on the sniper's phone from the boat shed."

"He get an address?" Sam asked anxiously.

"And a name," Safa replied, looking quite pleased. "Ronald Vasko. He just happens to be General Rasmussen's adjutant."

"Why didn't Bellamy have eyes on this guy?" Callen asked.

"Good question, Mr. Callen, but I wouldn't broach that subject with him at the moment. He's pissed enough as it is," Hetty warned.

"He's so pissed, he's leading the raid himself," Safa said. "Two tactical teams are closing in on a house close to the river just outside of Potomac, Maryland. He even called in a SEAL team. A helo will drop them right on top of those bastards. Op goes down in twenty minutes."

"Let's just hope they're still there," Sam cautioned. "If they got wind of what happened to Maddox, they could have scattered."

"We'll know soon enough," Hetty said. "If the raid is successful, everything will change."

"How?" Sam asked.

"Rasmussen and Harrison White will be out of options," she said with a tight smile. "They may just fold their tent."

"You think they'll make a deal?" Callen asked, looking surprised.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet, Mr. Callen," she said, patting him on the arm. "I suggest you give Mr. Deeks and the others the news. It might ease some of their concerns."

"Deeks isn't in any shape to fly, Hetty, let alone testify," Callen said quietly. "I'm not even sure he remembers much about the attack this morning."

"I know, Mr. Callen."

"Come on G. Let's go see how he's doing," Sam said, gripping his shoulder as he urged him down the hall.

…

Kensi sat with her legs tucked up beneath her on the window seat, her back against the wall facing the bed. When she wasn't staring at the ring on her finger, she was watching him. She hated seeing him hurt, hated the man who had hurt him and hated how close she had come to losing him. Her mind still raced through all the scenarios she had sifted through while he was being kicked and beaten, and finally punished for doing what he had to do while in the swamps of Louisiana. Waiting through that earlier mission had been hard enough, waking every morning scared out of her mind that it might be his last. The nights had been worse. Her mind wouldn't rest, so full of what might happen that she had trouble going to sleep, even though there was nothing she was in a position to do. She couldn't back him up. She was only able to talk to him a couple of times, and not hearing his voice was something she had no idea she would miss. Most of the time before that, she'd sometime wish he would shut up just so she could think, but when she didn't get to hear that soft drawl of his for all those many weeks, it was almost painful. She missed his stupid jokes. She missed his rambling on and on about some obscure new age thing he'd read about, and especially his soft laugh when she made a joke he appreciated. She'd missed everything about him, how he held her, how he kissed her, and most of all, how he made love to her.

But today, she had been there. Today her anger had been so powerful it had taken everything she'd ever learned to keep her cover intact, knowing she had to if they were to survive. Once again she'd had to wait, and right now, as she watched him sleep, she couldn't help feeling guilty for not having done something to stop them from hurting him.

"It's not your fault, Kensi," Joe said from the chair.

She was startled by his understanding, and by the realization that her feelings of guilt were so obvious.

"The guilt will change you if you let it," Joe said softly.

"Is that what made you give it all up?"

"I know how frustrated you were, Kensi," he replied. "But in the end you saved him. I couldn't do that for my partner. I had to watch Oscar die."

"You had no backup, Joe."

"Neither did you when Maddox did this to Marty," Joe replied as he rose and walked over to stand beside the bed. "You both survived. You have no reason to feel guilty."

"But I do," she said softly.

"Hard to let someone talk you out of it, isn't it?"

"It really never totally goes away, does it?" She said.

"Mine hasn't,"

"Will being at the ranch help?"

"I don't know yet," he said quietly.

"He's going to miss you," she said, unfolding herself and stretching as she got up and moved to the bedside.

Joe flinched slightly at her comment, and she saw a glimmer of tears in his eyes as he reached out and lightly touched his brother's shoulder. He looked over at her, his face collapsing into a sad expression of regret.

"I'll miss him too."

"You can always stick around, dumbass," Deeks said sleepily, opening his eyes only briefly and groaning before squeezing them shut.

Kensi moved to quickly close the curtains on the window to shield him from the low sun. "You're awake."

"Hey, Marty. I'd punch you, brother, but you're already beat to hell," Joe said with a quick grin. "How long you been eavesdropping?"

"Long enough to know you're gonna miss my sorry ass," Deeks said, a cocky grin making him look almost normal.

"How you feeling?" Joe asked.

"Like Sheila threw me into a pile of rocks and kicked me in the head," he replied, grunting softly as he tried to readjust his position.

"Should I call the nurse for more pain meds?" Kensi asked as she took his hand.

"How long have I been here?" He asked, looking around in confusion. "I don't remember them bringing me here."

"A couple of hours," Kensi said. "You were pretty out of it after X-Ray."

"Doc told us you've got two cracked ribs, but that hard head of yours is still in one piece," Joe said.

"Wish it felt like it was," Deeks replied, wincing as he tried to raise his left arm. "Ouch."

"Let's get you some more pain meds," Joe said, pushing the call button without hesitation.

"You guys flying out tonight or tomorrow?" Deeks asked. "It is the same day, isn't it?"

"Still waiting to find out if we're a go or not," Joe replied. "Callen's meeting with Hetty right now."

"None of us may be going," Kensi said.

"What?…What do you mean?" Deeks asked.

"They caught the people who killed Pensky," she replied. "Raided their place in Maryland a couple of hours ago. There were six guys sitting on a ton of weapons. Pretty intense firefight, but they managed to take a couple of them alive."

"And right about now, the Attorney General is letting Harrison White and Rasmussen know they're completely fucked," Joe said. "Love to see their faces when they find out we're all still alive."

"So White knew what Rasmussen was planning?" Deeks asked.

"Apparently their attorney's knew each other and were carrying messages between them," Kensi said. "Now they're under arrest too."

"What about the trial?" Deeks asked. "I should be able to go tomorrow."

"The Attorney General got a postponement," Joe said, as the nurse arrived and injected some meds into Deeks' IV.

"How long?"

"Callen's gonna let us know," Joe replied.

"Gonna let you know what?" Callen asked as he and Sam walked in.

"When we have to be in Washington," Deeks replied.

"Well it isn't tonight," Callen said. "And for you, maybe not tomorrow either. We'll see what the doctor says. Trust me, being trapped on an airplane flying at forty thousand feet with a concussion is not something you want to experience."

"What about going home in the morning?" Deeks said, sounding a little testy. "I'm good to do that at least."

"You threw up in X-Ray, Deeks," Sam said. "Don't rush it."

"Sonofabitch. Think I remember that," Deeks replied sheepishly.

"Heard anything, Callen?" Joe asked.

"Hetty is on a conference call with the Attorney General, Morgan Bellamy of the Office of Intelligence, SecNav, and some of the higher ups at Justice and the FBI."

"That won't be fun," Joe said quietly. "Probably all trying to cover their own asses."

"Especially the guy who authorized Rasmussen's house arrest," Sam said.

"Heads are rolling as we speak, gentlemen and Ms. Blye," Hetty said from the doorway.

"What's the verdict, Hetty?" Sam asked.

"Harrison White agreed to a plea deal. A life sentence served here in the States instead of Gitmo," she informed them solemnly. "Personally, I would have preferred the death penalty, but I was overruled."

"One of you should have shot that bastard when you had the chance," Joe said bitterly.

"You're right, brother…I should have," Deeks said quietly, looking away from them all.

"No you shouldn't have, Deeks," Sam said quickly. "You weren't there Joe. White was in custody, and Callen was down. Don't lay that burden on Deeks. He doesn't deserve it."

"God, brother…I don't blame you," Joe said, reaching out to grip Deeks' arm. "Please don't think that."

Deeks nodded, but said nothing, and Joe looked desperately at Kensi, who simply glared back at him.

"Rest assured, everyone, Harrison White's life is now a living nightmare," Hetty said. "He has been disgraced, convicted of treason, and will face every day trying to survive in ADX in Colorado. If you're unfamiliar with it, it's known as 'The Alcatraz of the Rockies'. He'll be incarcerated with the worst of the worst, which is exactly where he belongs."

"And Rasmussen?" Deeks asked softly.

"He had a hard time accepting the facts," Hetty replied. "Especially the fact that you all survived and that it was a woman who took out his protégé, a man he thought virtually unbeatable. Once he was shown proof and accepted that Weston Maddox was dead, he was apparently so angry he had to be restrained. When he got ahold of himself, he reluctantly agreed to the same deal as Harrison White, although they won't serve their sentences in the same facility. He did ask to know your name, Kensi, but that information was, of course, denied."

"So it's over?" Deeks asked.

"Yes, Mr. Deeks. It's over," she replied kindly. "You can rest and recover and plan your wedding."

"Does our family know?" Joe asked.

"I spoke with Elan before coming here," she replied. "He's not pleased with me at the moment, so you might want to call him. I'm afraid not being told you'd been taken and injured, Mr. Deeks, has soured our relationship. I don't speak Arapaho, but I believe that was the gist of it."

"We'll let you rest," Callen said, walking over to lay a hand on Deeks' leg. "I'll take numb-nuts here with me. Come on, Joe."

"Marty? Are we good, brother?" Joe asked, ignoring Callen as he stared intently at Deeks.

"Only if you kiss my ass," Deeks replied.

"You're gonna milk this for a long time, aren't you?" Joe asked with resignation.

"Probably," Deeks replied, a soft smile slowly flickering.

"You may be off the Best Man list," Callen said with a smirk. "Just sayin'."

"You have a list?" Joe asked, suddenly looking a little wounded..

"You didn't think you'd automatically be Best Man, did you?" Callen laughed.

"We may have to come up with some sort of competition and see who comes out on top," Sam said.

The three men started debating what contests would showcase their skills, oblivious to the fact that Deeks was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Kensi shook her head as she walked around the bed and began herding them toward the door. When they were outside in the hall and the door was halfway closed, they all stopped talking, finally realizing where they were.

"Take good care of him, Kens," Callen finally said. "We'll drop by later with dinner."

When they all started to argue about where they should pick up dinner, she firmly closed the door and turned to see Deeks smiling back at her.

"Thanks, Sunshine. They were making my head spin," he said, closing his eyes.

"That's my job," she replied, as she lowered the side railing.

He looked up at her sleepily, but scooted over as best he could as she moved to lie down beside him.

"Not sure I'm up for more head spinning," he said as she snuggled close.

She ran her hand slowly across his chest and gently kissed his shoulder. "Just sleep, baby. I'm just here to watch."

…

…


	13. Chapter 13

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 13_

…

He stubbornly refused to get in the wheelchair until Chris climbed up to sit in it while he argued with the nurse. When Diane tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at her son, Deeks couldn't help but smile when the little boy held his arms wide to be picked up and held.

"Wanna go for a ride, Unca Marty," he said, giggling happily.

"You get to go home, brother. Sit down and enjoy the ride," Joe said, picking up his son and nodding toward the wheelchair.

With Chris sitting on his lap and making racing car sounds, Joe wheeled him out of the hospital room and down the hall to the elevator. He hadn't seen Callen or Sam since dinner the night before, but Kensi was waiting for him as he exited the hospital.

"Who's your handsome little co-pilot there, Deeks?" Kensi asked with a brilliant smile.

"Meet Captain Christopher Atwood," Deeks replied as the toddler scrambled down from his lap and ran to hug Kensi.

"You need any help, Marty?" Joe asked as Deeks stood up and allowed the nurse to take the wheelchair.

"I'm not an invalid," he snapped.

"No…just a dumbass as usual. A cranky one," Joe said firmly. "Now shut up and let me help you in the car."

Deeks did feel a little shaky, but he didn't want Joe or Kensi to know that. Ignoring his brother's outstretched hand, he walked carefully to the passenger side of the car, and eased himself down into the seat, trying his best not to moan out loud when the throbbing ache in his ribs took his breath. He'd been so anxious to get out of the hospital that he'd skipped his last two pain pills and he was feeling it. He no longer felt violently nauseous, but the low thrum of pain and wooziness left him feeling unstable and definitely irritable.

"I'll follow you home, Kensi," Joe said as he glared at Deeks. "Just in case this idiot falls on his ass getting out of the car."

"He is kind of a dizzy blond right now," Kensi said, cackling at her own joke.

"Really, Kens?" Deeks asked, finally letting himself smile at her attempt at humor.

As he tried to get comfortable in the seat, Joe knelt down beside him, resting his hand lightly on the top of his shoulder. Neither one said anything, and Deeks felt himself slowly relax in the presence of the man who had somehow become his brother all those years ago. He realized what a gift he was, always on his side, always willing to talk about whatever was bothering him or fight for him no matter what. Memories tumbled around in his head from the first time they'd met, both of them undercover as somebody else, and even then they had connected. Joe had saved his life, and he had saved his, but it was the easy conversations and silly bantering that remained in his thoughts, along with residual feelings that still moved him.

"Dammit! I'm gonna miss you, brother," Deeks finally said softly.

Joe squeezed his shoulder and smiled. "I'm not going to the moon, dumbass."

"Yeah, no…I know," he replied, mentally stumbling over words he couldn't find to tell him how he felt.

"Let's get you home," Joe said, wiping at his eyes as he stood. "We'll talk when you stop falling asleep in the middle of a conversation."

"You still gonna be around?"

"Hetty is letting us stay in one of her houses until this mess is cleared up," Joe replied. "My house is still a crime scene, and shot to hell. Got a lot of work to do on it now, before I can put it on the market."

"I'll help you get it back in shape," Deeks offered.

"You need to get yourself back in shape first. I talked to Elan last night. He and Soldier are flying in to help," Joe said, and then laughed. "Dad and Uncle Jim are driving out. Uncle Jim said he needed to be here...just wouldn't say why. He refuses to get on a plane, so Dad agreed to drive."

"Seriously?" Deeks said, elated by the news.

"Dad's worried about you," Joe said. "So you better get on home and rest up. By the time those two old horse wranglers get here you might just look as pretty as you normally do."

"Gonna see me home, or stop by later?"

"If you promise to let Kensi help you into the house, I'll come by tonight. Just don't be a grumpy sonofabitch when I get there," Joe said as he began closing the door to the car.

"Copy that. When does Elan arrive?" Deeks asked as Kensi got into the driver's seat.

"I'm picking him up around six at LAX. He's anxious to see you. We might even bring dinner over, if you promise to be good."

"Deal, brother."

Deeks lowered the window as the door closed between them, grabbing his brother's hand as they said goodbye. He watched his form in the side mirror as they drove away, smiling softly as he watched Joe's son wrap an arm around his leg. He turned to look at Kensi and wondered if children would be part of their future. They hadn't talked about it lately, knowing it was a sensitive subject between them, but there was still a lot to think about now that they were free of anymore threats for the moment. They had a wedding to plan, and he realized how happy that made him. The whole idea seemed so innocent, a beautiful moment in time to cherish and commit to the incredible woman he loved.

"What are you grinning about?" Kensi asked, smiling herself.

"We're getting married," he said, his eyes suddenly misting with tears.

"Are you getting all blubbery?" She asked, looking surprised. "Baby? I love you for that."

"It's a pretty damn amazing thing," he replied.

"It's a love story," she whispered through tears.

"Yeah, it is."

They held hands all the way home like a couple of high school sweethearts, and it felt so right and so good, a sign of a deep connection that could never be broken.

…

Kensi sat cross-legged on the floor beside the couch as he slept, the stitches on his temple starkly visible where they had shaved the hair away from the jagged cut. The two pain pills she'd given him when they got home hadn't taken long to do their work, but he hadn't wanted to go up to bed, insisting that the couch was fine. Now he was snoring softly, his hand still in hers. She held the back of his hand against her cheek as she took in all the small cuts and darkening bruises on his face. Remnants of yesterday's anger stirred as flashes of memory reminded her of what she came so close to losing. He was the love of her life, her future, and she'd had to watch while he endured being beaten and stabbed, while she'd had to pretend she was his docile, scared-out-of-her-mind fiancé. Joe had tried to convince her that what happened wasn't her fault, but she was still having trouble accepting that. Even though outnumbered, she still should have found a way to stop Maddox. She hadn't realized how tightly she was squeezing his hand until he woke and turned to look at her.

"Hey," he said softly. "Everything okay? That's quite a grip you've got there, Sunshine."

"Oh…sorry," she said, letting go. "Just thinking too hard, I guess."

He reached up and touched her cheek, brushing his thumb lightly across her lips before running his fingers up into her hair. She leaned into his palm, closing her eyes to stop her tears.

"Talk to me, baby," he said softly. "I know something's bothering you, and I'm pretty sure I know what, so just get it out."

She edged closer, placing her hand on his chest as she tried to put her feelings of regret into words.

"I didn't do anything to stop him," she whispered. "I let him hurt you, Deeks, and I…"

"You shot the bastard in the head, Kens," he interrupted to say.

"But in that warehouse… I should have come up with some way to stop them from kicking the crap out of you."

"Like what, Kens? Go all badass ninja on them? Give away you were an agent, and lose our only contact with the guys?" He asked. "There were seven of them, baby. Even you aren't that good."

"The hell I'm not," she blurted out defensively. "I'm damn good."

"Yeah, you are, but they were armed, remember?" He said, his eyes wide with intensity. "They would have shot you, Kensi. It's what I was afraid of from the minute we were taken. You think I wanted to see you shot down in front of me? That would have ripped my heart out."

"You're right. You're right…but I still feel guilty," she said quietly, reaching up to brush the hair out of his eyes.

"Don't, okay? Don't," he said. "We're home. We're safe. We have a week off…"

"Hetty gave you a week off, and more if you need it…but not me," she replied, rising to her knees and leaning over to kiss him.

"But you're my partner. You're supposed to take care of me," he said, giving her that wounded look of his.

"Poor baby," she said with a grin.

"No fair mocking the injured guy," he said, pouting just enough to make her want him badly.

She put her forearms on either side of his head, gently fingering his hair, and careful not to make contact with his injuries. Leaning in close she smiled at him, and when she saw that soft grin that always made her melt inside, she kissed him. Her passion ignited as he ran his hand up under her shirt and then down inside her sweats, his fingers moving expertly along her hip until she wanted nothing more than to straddle him and make love to him.

"You want me, don't you?" He said against her lips.

"Oh yeah," she whispered and kissed him again. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"It won't hurt me if you get naked," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and grinning.

"Are you really that easy to please?" She asked.

"Do you really have to ask that?"

Leaning back, she lifted her long-sleeved tee shirt up over her head, and tossed it behind her.

"You're not wearing a bra," he said, his face softening into a pleasant smile.

"We're home," she said.

"My god, you're beautiful," he whispered, lifting her breast in his hand.

"And you're a pushover," she said, leaning over to kiss him again.

They kissed each other with a tenderness that touched her. She felt possessive and protective and once again the inkling of regret and guilt stirred within her, but she forced it away, suddenly just thankful that they were both alive. Even the soft touch of his hand stroking her hair made her thankful. The world was crazy, but now that he was safe and she could hold him, everything seemed possible again. When he stopped kissing her, she pulled back to see why, wondering if she had inadvertently caused him pain.

"Thought I heard a car door," he said softly, grinning up at her. "Could be Joe and Elan, so you might want to find that top you threw over your shoulder. I like to share things with my brothers, but you half naked isn't one of them."

She pecked him on the cheek and rushed to gather her tee shirt, sliding it over her head just as the doorbell rang. She giggled at the exaggerated grin on his face and took a deep breath to still her racing heart before going to the door.

"Hey Kensi," Elan said as he hugged her. "How's he doing?"

"He's good…great," she said, feeling her cheeks flush red.

Elan didn't notice anything, simply walked past her and headed over to where Deeks was struggling to sit up without hurting himself. Joe just smiled knowingly at her as he walked by, and she saw Soldier standing just down the walk out of the light.

"You coming in?" She asked, moving out into the coolness of the night.

"Is he hurt bad?" The boy asked quietly, his forehead creased with concern.

"He's going to be okay, Soldier," she said softly as she went to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "He's tough. You know that."

"Are you okay too?"

"Yeah, I'm good…now."

"Were you scared?" He asked, turning to look at her with those deep dark eyes that always seemed to draw the truth out of her.

She nodded and felt shaky all of a sudden as if back in that warehouse watching Deeks' blood spill out onto the floor. Soldier stepped up and wrapped her gently in his arms as tears flooded her eyes. She let herself cry for the first time in the embrace of a teenage boy who understood the kind of fear that had gripped her. He'd lived with it most of his life, and she was grateful for the comfort he offered.

"Papa was scared too. Thought he could hide it from me," Soldier said when they parted and walked up to the house. "But he loves Uncle Deeks, so I called bullshit."

Kensi laughed out loud and it caused all three men inside to stop talking and stare at them as they came in the door.

"Your son is way too smart for you, Elan," Kensi said.

"Yeah… I'm learning that," Elan replied.

"Hey Soldier," Deeks said.

The boy's face was pinched with worry as he looked Deeks over, but Kensi noticed the tightening of his muscles as his hands clinched into fists. Their relationship had seen its ups and downs, but their first meeting still ruled the day. Deeks had shown him kindness when that had been a rare occurrence in his life, especially coming from a man. Soldier had been used to being ignored or worse, being punished and knocked around if he did something the people around him didn't like. The violence he'd lived with throughout his early childhood was something he and Deeks held in common. Adjusting to a caring family was something that had taken both of them some time, but when Soldier had settled in with the Atwoods and realized how all encompassing their love was, he had found joy and contentment, just as Deeks had. They had both found a home and a family and both had become fiercely protective of the people in it. Now, Kensi could sense Soldier's anger at what Deeks had suffered, and it didn't surprise her.

"You look awful, Uncle Deeks," He said slowly.

"That's what everyone keeps saying," Deeks said. "That particular bad guy didn't like me very much."

"Papa said he's dead," Soldier said, loosening his stance a bit. "Did you shoot him?"

"No. Kensi did."

The boy turned to stare at her with an expression of doubt at first that slowly morphed into surprise.

"She saved my life, Soldier," Deeks said quietly. "The bad guy made the mistake of thinking she was just a regular girl."

"You know she's a federal agent, son," Elan said.

"Like Lily?"

"Yeah, like Lily," Elan replied.

"How is Lily?" Kensi asked, smiling softly. "You two still have a thing?"

"Long distance makes it hard, but we still care about each other," Elan said, and she heard the sadness in his voice. "She wants an invitation to your wedding."

"As soon as we know when that is, I'll call her," Kensi said.

"You could have a Christmas wedding," Joe teased with a grin. "Dad and Uncle Jim should be here by then."

"We haven't really had time to talk about it," Kensi said, staring at Deeks, wondering what he was thinking.

"Yeah…Kensi hasn't even started planning yet," Deeks said with a grin, picking up on her uneasiness. "We should probably wait on that."

"Why? Why do you have to wait?" Soldier asked. "We're all here now, and George and Uncle Jim are coming, and Lily can catch a flight out of Paris. So why do you want to wait?"

Kensi didn't have an answer for him and by the look on Deeks' face, neither did he.

Elan caught on to her reluctance and hurried to sidetrack the conversation. "George wanted to drive straight through, Cuz, but I told him Joe said you were okay. Uncle Jim finally convinced him to stop in Cimarron, down in New Mexico. A friend has a ranch there and said they could stay and maybe have a look at his mares. George wants you to call, Marty. He needs to hear your voice."

"That's a long drive even if it isn't snowing," Joe said, and Kensi could see the instant concern on Deeks' face, and apparently so had Joe. "Don't worry, brother. He's been driving in snow since before you were born."

"Call 'im, Cuz," Elan said.

"Tell 'em to hurry out so we can have your wedding," Soldier said, his face so hopeful Kensi couldn't hold back a smile.

"Soldier," Elan said. "Stop being a pain in the ass."

"Don't rush him," Joe said easily. "He couldn't even walk straight this morning, so navigating an aisle might be a little tough."

"Who said there would even be an aisle to walk down?" Kensi said.

"Sounds like she already has something in mind, brother," Joe laughed.

"Kens? What are you thinking, baby?"

"I know we haven't talked about this, but…" Kensi started and then stopped, not sure she wanted to reveal to everybody what was going through in her mind while sitting in that hospital room watching him sleep.

"We can go in the kitchen or out in the backyard," Joe said quickly, standing up to leave.

"But I wanna hear," Soldier said.

"Me too," Deeks said, looking curious.

Before she had a chance to say anything there was a brief knock at the door and Callen walked in. "I brought take-out from Nong La."

"Chinese?" Elan asked.

"Vietnamese," Callen replied as he headed for the kitchen, loaded down with savory smelling bags.

Joe quickly followed him after giving Deeks a long look, and Elan put both hands on his son's shoulders and pushed him toward the kitchen. Once they were alone, they listened briefly to the muted voices coming from the other room as each container was opened, until Deeks tugged her hand to get her attention. She ran her hand through his hair as he smiled up at her.

"You already know where you want to get married, yeah?" He said quietly. "Wanna share it with me, Sunshine?"

"I wasn't sure when I first thought of it, but after everything you went through, I want you to be happy," she replied, sitting down next to him on the couch. "I love you, and now more than ever, I know if you're happy then I'm happy."

"You know I feel the same way, so don't do whatever it is you've got in mind just to please me," he said. "It's your wedding, baby. Do it your way."

"That's just it, Deeks…it's your wedding too…"

"Okay, let's just agree to call it our wedding," he laughed. "Now tell me."

"That time we all thought you were dead, Hetty arranged a memorial service at one of your favorite beaches," she started, blinking back tears as she recalled one of the most painful moments of her life.

"Granger showed me photos of it," Deeks said, swallowing hard as his voice cracked.

"I was a mess, but I felt close to you there," she said. "When Maddox had you down on the floor with that knife pressed against your neck…I thought I was going to lose you for real this time. He was going to kill you…and…"

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, holding her head against his neck as he place sweet kisses in her hair and shushed her.

"While it was happening…all I could think of was that memorial service," she whispered through tears. "I remember feeling so empty and so alone on that beach, even with everyone around. More than anything, I wanted to see you come out of the water and run up the beach with that goofy smile you get when you're ecstatically happy."

He raised her head and kissed her and she clung to him, relishing the feel of his lips on hers, the intimacy and tenderness of the moment, and she began to cry.

"Come on, baby. It's okay. I'm here. You're here," he said in a rush.

"Deeks…I want to see you that happy on our wedding day," she said, leaning back to look into his eyes. "I want to marry you on that beach. I want to blot out all those memories about that horrible day and the one you just survived. I want to see you smile that goofy smile when I walk down to the water to meet you…alive and happy."

"Wow, Kens…that's…that sounds magical," he said, his eyes glazed with tears.

"Marty Deeks…will you marry me on the beach?" She asked softly.

"I'd marry you anywhere, Sunshine, but marrying you on that beach would be a little bit of perfect."

…

…


	14. Chapter 14

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 14_

…

Callen put the pink box of donuts down on the counter and picked up the note with Kensi's handwriting on it. While he'd been out getting breakfast, she'd been ordered to the boatshed for her debrief and from all the exclamation points inserted throughout her angry looking script, she was not happy about it. He had insisted on spending the night at Deeks' place, wanting to make sure Kensi had help if she needed it, and now he was glad he had. Deeks had been reluctant to accept any kind of assistance the night before, until Joe basically manhandled him up the stairs to the bedroom, ignoring his vehement and sometimes funny protests. Elan and Soldier would probably be at Joe's house already this morning, helping with the repairs and since he had spent most of the previous day being debriefed, he was the logical one to hang out with Deeks today. They hadn't had a chance to talk much after the incident and he was curious to find out how it had affected him mentally. What Maddox had done had to have brought back memories of their time with The Brotherhood.

"Hey," Deeks said sleepily from the doorway. "Where's Kens?"

"Called in early for her debrief," Callen replied, noting how he clung to the doorframe. "You still dizzy?"

"The stairs were a little challenging. Felt like I was surfing," he replied, yawning widely. "Save any donuts for me?"

"There nothing wrong with asking for help you know," Callen said. "Kensi would've killed us both if you'd wiped out on the stairs."

Deeks shrugged and gave him that cheeky grin that irritated Sam so much, and Hetty at certain times. It always amazed Callen how he could appear to be so unconcerned and unaffected when deep down he was anything but. He'd always been good at hiding his true emotions when he wanted to, but Callen had spent enough time with him in the swamps of Louisiana to know the subtle signs he couldn't hide.

"I'll let you have a donut if you tell me what's going on in that crazy head of yours," he said as he picked up the pink box and held it away from him.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, Deeks, I'm serious," Callen said. "And don't try and pretend something isn't bothering you. You're not that tough to read since Louisiana."

Deeks took a deep breath and stared at him, his eyes dark and his jaw flexing in irritation. "Okay, but I need coffee first…and a damn donut."

He moved cautiously along the counter, steadying himself every few steps until he reached the coffee maker. Callen noticed his hand tremble as he poured himself a cup, but didn't move to help, knowing it would piss him off.

"Both wrists are sprained, aren't they?" Callen said softly.

"Maddox weighed more than Beau," he answered as he turned to face him. "Hands were tied behind my back. The big bastard shoved my face into the floor and slammed his big ol' hard ass down on top of 'em. Hurt like a sonofabitch."

Deeks was grinning by the end as if the whole thing should be treated as a joke instead of the painful experience it must have actually been.

"Good thing the big ol' hard assed bastard is dead," Callen said, smirking at him. "Now you want to tell me what's bugging you?"

"You mean other than still being pissed that I let us get taken in the first place?"

"You think you could have stopped it?" Callen asked. "None of us knew he was anywhere near the boat shed."

"Something didn't feel right, G. I ignored it," he replied, looking away from him as he spoke.

"Guess you're not perfect after all," Callen said with a wry smile. "Quit being so hard on yourself, kid. The guy was good, but so were you and Kens."

"Mostly her," Deeks replied with a proud smile that faded quickly. "She thinks she should have stopped seven guys from roughing me up. How's that for misplaced guilt."

"We're all feeling guilty, Deeks," Callen admitted softly. "Our plan led to the deaths of three FBI agents."

"Yeah…no…of course. DeRosa had kids, too," Deeks said quietly. "Did the other two have family?"

"Agent Wilkes was divorced. No kids. The agent the sniper killed, Jesse Arroyo, was married with a six year old daughter."

"Sonofabitch."

"We all know the risks," Callen said, but it sounded empty even to him.

"Should I even be thinking about getting married, G?" Deeks asked, his eyes full of uncertainty. "Even though Kensi's not sure, I want kids eventually. But, given what we do, is it fair to bring them into all this?"

"You should ask Sam that question," Callen replied. "As for getting married…don't even think about backing out. Didn't think I'd ever say this to anyone, but you two were meant for each other."

"Really? G Callen...a romantic?" Deeks asked, grinning with exaggerated astonishment.

"I'm a survivor. Kensi would shoot us both if you asked for that ring back and she found out I didn't try and talk you out of it," Callen said.

"Yeah…probably not a good idea," Deeks said, smiling softly. "Okay, brother. Marriage it is. And just to clarify…I have no intention of backing out. Marrying Kensi will be the happiest day of my life."

"Come up with a when and a where yet?" Callen asked as he passed him the pink box of donuts.

"The where…yeah," he replied. "The when…undecided."

"Soldier's right you know. Why wait?"

"To be honest…I don't know," he replied. "I thought Kensi wanted to take her time planning the wedding of the century…deciding on what kind of flowers she wanted or whether to have chocolate cake or red velvet or both…me in a tux, her in a traditional white wedding gown. You know…what every girl supposedly dreams of. And I wanted all of that for her. Then Maddox happened and it changed everything for her. And for me."

"How?"

"Like you said…we all know the risks," Deeks said quietly. "But in that warehouse, surrounded like that…just waiting to see who died first…"

"Deeks," Callen said in a rush, suddenly unable to breathe because of the unspeakable reality of his brother's words.

"I really believed I was gonna lose her right there," he said, looking into his coffee as if he might find solace there. "And she thought we was going to lose me. Now she wants us to get married on the beach where you had that memorial service for me. That's not a little bit strange at all, right?"

"No. Not really. That day was hard for all of us, Deeks, not just Kensi. Seeing you there with her, watching you two get married…it would heal a lot of lingering regrets."

Callen watched him carefully as he took in that information, knowing he would be surprised that after all this time, some of them still held on to their guilt over what had happened to him.

"Besides…you love the beach and you're not exactly the typical couple you see in bridal magazines," Callen said, trying to lighten his mood. "Although, as hard as it is to admit, you do look good in a tux."

"I got all kinds of swagger in a tux," he said with a laugh. "And just for the record, when did you start reading bridal magazines?"

"I had to trail a suspect once. She went into a bridal salon and I followed her," he said, feeling slightly defensive. "She was in there a long time. What can I say? I learned a lot about weddings. Did you know you could register at different stores listing exactly what wedding gifts you want people to buy you? Takes all the fun out of buying a gift, and getting one too, don't you think?"

"That story's just all kinds of weird," Deeks said, before growing serious again. "But, none of that matters now…so you're right. Why wait? There's always going to be a Weston Maddox trying to kill us, or an undercover operation that separates us, so…why not say 'to hell with convention'…let's do this now so we can have as much time together as husband and wife before the sky falls."

"That sounds just a tiny bit morbid, especially for you, brother," Callen said. "Don't go all doom and gloom on me now. Eat your donut and cheer the hell up. You're both alive and getting married. And…you need to choose a best man."

"Already have," Deeks replied. "Just haven't asked him yet."

"You're not going to tell me are you."

"No I'm not," he said, with a cocky grin that signaled his mood had lightened.

"So, it's obviously not me," Callen said, surprised at how disappointed that made him feel.

"Doesn't mean I don't want you standing up there with me," Deeks hurried to say. "You're my brother, G."

"Then tell me. I'm tough. I can take it. And if you want me to keep it a secret, I've got a pretty good track record doing that, in case you've forgotten," Callen said, staring at him with studied intensity softened by a smirk.

Callen watched him as he dropped his head, smiling as he turned to take a glazed donut from the box, chewing it slowly as he leaned back against the counter. He waited him out, knowing he would eventually spill his big secret just by the flicker of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

Callen had told no one how devastated he'd felt when he found out Deeks and Kensi had been taken. His stomach had been in knots since the moment he'd heard, his mind going blank when he stared at the blood on the remaining chunks of glass in the car window. It had sent his mind into overdrive, and he had quelled the queasiness in his stomach by turning his thoughts to getting him back. Sam was the only one who seemed to have noticed his fear, and somehow that had made it easier to bear. Now, as he watched Deeks toying with him over his choice of a best man, he realized he didn't care who it was. He only cared that this brother he had inexplicably found, was standing in front of him alive and happy.

"Never mind. I don't need to know," he finally said.

Deeks looked surprised he'd backed off, but then smiled and spoke the name softly. "It's George."

"I should have guessed that," Callen said.

"Yeah…your skills are slipping, old man," Deeks said in that soft drawl of his, ending in a gentle laugh.

"Did you talk to him last night?"

"Fell asleep," he said, wincing as he turned to snag another donut.

"Didn't take your pain pills yet, did you?" Callen asked.

"Not supposed to take them on an empty stomach," he replied.

"How the ribs feeling?"

"Cracked."

"Wiseass."

Deeks finished his second donut and fished a couple of pills out of the pocket of his sweats and held them in the palm of his hand so Callen could see them.

"Happy?"

"You want some juice or something?" Callen asked as he stepped toward the fridge.

"Not necessary," he replied, quickly dry swallowing the pills.

"You okay?" Callen asked, noticing his mood had shifted once again.

"Who debriefed you?" He asked.

"Deeks…" Callen said, not wanting to get into this with him just yet, but knowing Deeks wouldn't let it go. "Okay. Let's talk in the living room. You're looking a little shaky."

"You'd tell me if I was in trouble, right?" Deeks asked as they moved slowly toward the sofas.

"Why would you think that?" Callen asked, feeling unsettled by the question.

"The concussion might have left me a little woozy, but it didn't make me stupid," he replied. "The DOJ, and the FBI especially, have to be pissed we didn't follow their plan for getting us to Washington. I was their star witness against Harrison White, and I let myself get taken and almost killed. Don't tell me they didn't question you about that."

Deeks eased himself down onto the sofa and let out a hiss of pain, grimacing as he settled back into the pillows and swung his long legs up and stretched out. Callen could almost feel his wariness growing, his eyes guarded and full of suspicion.

"You gonna tell me or not?" Deeks asked, his voice rough and his attitude brittle.

"First of all, it wasn't your plan," Callen stated softly. "The idea was Sam's and the plan was mine and Hetty's."

"I'm the one who suggested the plane might be rigged," he said.

"But it wasn't, which they were quick to point out when they debriefed me," Callen replied, recalling the hard looks he got when that fact was presented.

"Are you in trouble?" He asked, concern clouding his eyes.

"They're questioning why we saw fit to change what they believed to be a well thought out plan," he said slowly. "They had a squad of seasoned FBI agents in charge, a jet fueled and ready to go, and to be honest, I think their feelings gotta little hurt that we didn't trust them."

"You told them we thought Rasmussen had an inside man, didn't you?" Deeks asked. "I mean, Jacob Pensky's location was compromised. That alone gave us good reason to believe their plan for us might be compromised as well. Did they take that into consideration or are they just looking for scapegoats?"

"I won't lie, it was a tough debrief," Callen admitted. "Sam was so mad he couldn't even talk when he came out of his."

"What about Hetty? Is she being blamed for this?"

"The FBI certainly wants to blame somebody for the loss of their agents," Called replied. "You know Hetty. She'll take the fall if she has to, but she's also pretty damn adept at squirming out of tight political situations and taking us with her."

"I hope they aren't too tough on Kensi," he said, the worry back on his face. "She's been through enough without this crap. They do know she shot the guy, right?"

"They actually weren't too happy about that," Callen said softly. "They would have preferred Maddox taken alive. Apparently they had a lot of questions for him they wanted answers to."

"How tough do you think they'll be on her?"

"She can handle it, Deeks," he said.

"That's not what I asked," Deeks said, his words clipped and his eyes dark with anger.

"They had a lot of questions about your relationship," Callen admitted reluctantly.

"What kind of questions?"

"They asked if you were engaged," he replied. "Why they asked me that, I don't know. They'd heard the recording off the comms, and Hetty had already told them you were."

"Are they trying to say she acted too quickly because of our relationship?" Deeks asked, sitting forward too fast and aggravating his cracked ribs.

It took him a moment to catch his breath and Callen suddenly felt angry, knowing Deeks would eventually have to go through a grueling debrief he wasn't sure he was physically ready for.

"Take it easy Deeks," Callen said. "Both Sam and I praised Kensi for her quick action. If she hadn't fired, one of us would have. Maddox didn't give us a choice. it was either him or you."

"The DOJ sounds like they would have made a different choice," Deeks said bitterly.

"That's not true. You were their star witness, remember?"

"Then why are they questioning Kensi's actions?" Deeks asked.

Callen hesitated, unsure how to answer him that wouldn't cause him concern. "It's what they do, brother. They're questioning every action each one of us took."

"Don't play me, brother," Deeks said, his voice heavy with the accusation.

"These are Washington guys, Deeks," Callen started to explain. "Everything is political with them. They want everything to be logical and explainable. No emotion involved. Most of them have never even been in the field. That situation was emotional for all of us, it's just…"

"Kensi's a woman and they assume she was automatically more emotional, especially since I'm her fiancé," Deeks said, finishing what he'd been afraid to say. "That's bullshit, Callen, and I hope you told them that."

"Kensi's record speaks for itself," Callen said, trying to calm him down. "She did what was necessary and that's what we all told them. Was it an emotional response? Yeah, probably, but that would have been the case for any one of us holding a gun on that bastard."

"Is that what you told them?"

"I told them Maddox was about to slit your throat, and that if Kensi hadn't fired when she did, they wouldn't have had a witness to testify against White and Rasmussen."

"Did they accept that?"

"They questioned it, but I got a little emotional in my response, and they decided we all needed a break."

"What the hell did you say?" Deeks asked with a bemused smile.

"I have a feeling my response won't show up in the official report," Callen said. "But they didn't arrest me for threatening a federal agent or for insubordination, so that was a plus."

"What did they threaten you with?" Deeks asked, his face rigid as he waited for the answer.

"Let's just say I was afforded some time off now that I'm not needed in Washington to testify," Callen said lightly. "In fact, one guy ordered me to stay out of Washington altogether."

"You really know how to make friends in high places," Deeks said, finally laughing quietly with him.

"Your debrief won't be for a couple of days, but don't go in there loaded for bear when you're called," Callen warned. "Just keep it simple. Tell the truth and don't be stupid and shoulder any blame, or you might not have a job to go back to."

"That bad?"

Callen nodded, not ready to share all of what went on in his debrief or after. He'd spent long hours with Hetty and Sam yesterday, strategizing on how to protect Deeks and Kensi from any blowback from what had happened, but he was still worried about them. Hetty had Deeks' debrief pushed back with a phone call to the Attorney General himself, but Callen knew these internal investigations had a life of their own, and the FBI still wanted someone to blame for the deaths of their agents. Blaming a dead man didn't have the same feeling of accomplishment as the disgrace of a serving agent or the downfall of someone of Hetty's stature. A minefield lay ahead of them all, and he was determined to get his brother through it without any damage if he could. They were all ready for some joy in their lives after taking down Pierce and White and Rasmussen and the whole damn Brotherhood. They had to remind Washington just what Deeks had gone through to save this country from a terrible act of treason.

"Why don't you get some rest, kid," Callen finally said, noting how his eyelids had begun to flutter. "After your nap you can call George and give him the good news about being your best man."

The half smile he got for his comment slightly eased the knot in his stomach, as did Deeks calling him "old man" as he agreed and draped an arm across his eyes. Callen watched him until he was snoring softly, his mind roiling with ideas on what steps he needed to take to protect him.

He wanted nothing to cloud that wedding on the beach.

…

…


	15. Chapter 15

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 15_

…

Deeks woke abruptly to the sound of the front door slamming, causing him to flinch just enough to send a sharp stab of pain across his rib cage. The muttered curses from a familiar voice ended with the door of the fridge being yanked open, rattling the loose bottles of beer he had neatly lined up on the top shelf and Kensi's hoard of jam jars. He'd just eased himself up into a sitting position when the door to the fridge slammed shut, and the freezer door was pulled open.

"Callen? I'm going to kill you," She called out softly. "I told you the Rocky Road was off limits."

"He went out for more," Deeks called back. "Afraid you have me to blame for eating all your ice cream."

She came out of the kitchen with an embarrassed smile. "God, Deeks. I didn't even see you when I came in."

"Tough day, baby?" He asked, knowing it was true just by the flush on her cheeks and the pulsing vein in her forehead.

Her eyes darkened as she hugged herself and leaned against the doorframe, but she didn't say anything and it scared him. "Kens? What's happened?"

Then he saw the glaze of tears in her eyes, which she turned away to hide, and he pushed himself up off the couch, moving as quickly as he could to reach her. The rush of adrenaline helped mitigate some of his sudden dizziness, but he still had to grab the back of the chair to steady himself as he staggered across the room. She saw him stumble and in two strides wrapped her arms around him and held him still until the room stopped spinning.

"Anybody ever tell you, you walk like a drunken sailor?" She said with a warm smile.

"My baby making an NCIS joke?" He asked with a quick grin as he slumped into the chair.

"If it is, it'll be the first funny thing to happen all day."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah…you could say that," she replied, as her hand gently stroked through his hair. "I love you."

Her soft endearment held a hint of sadness, and he reached up and grasped her wrist, pulling her down so he could see her eyes. She dropped to her knees and curled up on the floor beside him, her head resting in his lap. He could feel the tension in her shoulders as he rubbed her back, and she clung to him, her fingers clasping his.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not yet."

"I love you, Kens," he said softly. "However bad things get, that won't ever change."

"I know," she murmured, tightening her grip on his hand.

They stayed like that as the light outside faded into a muted dusk. One lamp cast a warm glow over the darkening room, but he still felt chilled by what remained unspoken. He was content to wait her out though, stroking her hair and feeling the tension slowly ebb away.

"I almost quit today," she said wearily.

Now it was him who was suddenly tense. "What? Why? What did the bastards say to make you want to do that?"

She kissed his hand and then moved until she was kneeling between his legs facing him, her hands on his thighs. A hint of her earlier anger flashed in her eyes, but was quickly replaced by a sadness that ignited his own anger. He grasped the backs of her arms and pulled her into an embrace, whispering his love softly into her hair. She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and then sat back on her legs, her eyes searching his as she collected herself.

"They were so damn condescending, Deeks. They treated me like I was some fragile little girl instead of an seasoned field agent," she began slowly. "Like all my years of experience flew out the window because my emotions got the better of me. They accused me of losing control because you were my fiancé."

"Sonofabitch." His anger was hot now, but he said nothing because he knew she had more she needed to say.

"They questioned every comment I made," she continued. "Every action…every reaction…everything I did. Especially the shooting."

"You saved my life, Kens."

"Deeks…I think they're going to recommend we be split up," she said, her eyes filling with tears.

Even though that thought had been in the back of his mind for a while, hearing her say it out loud caught him off guard. A cloud now cast their happiness into shadow, and he leaned back and stared at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with what that might mean for their future. He was angry, but also resigned to the fact that they're life would be totally different if they were no longer allowed to be partners. He felt a complete lack of control like he had as a child and all decisions were made for him no matter what he said or did. He hadn't liked it then, and he sure as hell didn't like it now.

"We'll fight it," he said quietly. "Neither one of us deserves to be punished like that for what happened."

"It's as if they forgot that Maddox had agents killed and tried to kill us and the team," she said, the disbelief in her voice matching his own. "I asked them what they expected me to do. He would have killed you, and I told them you were my partner and I wasn't going to let that happen. I said I would have done the same thing even if we weren't engaged."

"What did they say to that?"

"Nothing. They just looked at each another and wrote down something in their notes," she said. "I don't think they believed me."

"Did you talk to Hetty afterwards?" He asked.

"She wasn't at her desk when I came out," she said. "But, I saw her before I went in and she looked pissed. Do you think she knew?"

"Doesn't she always?"

Kensi's phone rang and he saw her jaw clinch as she showed him who the caller was. "Hetty…"

He couldn't help but smile at the woman's timing, wondering once again if she had installed listening devices in their house at the same time she'd added security cameras outside. He watched various emotions cross Kensi's face as she listened, making few comments. The conversation was short, and she nodded only once before saying goodbye and ending the call.

"She just landed in Washington," Kensi said. "She has an appointment with the Attorney General tomorrow morning. She said she knows what the DOJ team here is trying to do and she intends to fight them on it."

"Seriously? She's going one on one with the Attorney General for us?"

"Guess we shouldn't be surprised," she replied. "Sort of like David and Goliath though, when you think about it."

"Yeah, but don't forget who won that one," Deeks said. "Except in this case…which one's David and which one's Goliath?"

As he pondered that question he noticed Kensi was staring out into space as if she hadn't heard him. "What's going on in there, baby?"

"I don't want to wait, Deeks," she said earnestly as she took both of his hands in hers. "I want to get married as soon as we can make arrangements. I'm not going to let some pompous bureaucrats ruin our plans. And I don't care what the Attorney General decides. I am going to marry you, Deeks, come hell or high water."

"Did you just make our wedding sound like an 'end of the world' disaster movie, with the DOJ guys part of the zombie apocalypse?" Deeks asked with a wide smile.

"You think this is funny, Deeks?" She said, pulling away from him.

"No, no, baby I don't," he said gently. "But, I did picture a humongous sea monster rising out of the ocean with the two of us, working side by side, in one of those awesome, gigantic robots striding out to do battle. You in your white wedding gown and me in a sexy black tux."

"Just to be accurate, the monsters in Pacific Rim were called Kaijus and the robots were Jaegers," she reminded him, finally smiling. "And there were no zombies in it."

"So we do a rewrite. Hey, it's our movie, baby," he said with a soft laugh. "Our wedding. Our life."

He'd needed to see her smile, and if teasing her about monsters from one of her favorite kick ass movies did the trick, he would happily drag out more. As her smile slowly faded, he kissed her softly on the lips, smoothing her hair back as he drew her to him. She pushed him deeper into the chair, her hands moving up his chest to hold his face. Her kisses became passionate and insistent and his heart began to race, filling with love for her. All the possible concerns and problems faded from his mind, replaced with a joy he had never experienced in life before he met her. How could he love someone this much, and be loved this much in return? It was overpowering, magical and perfect.

She giggled, her kisses now light and sweet. "No matter what's going on, you can always make me laugh."

"I don't want you to be sad, Kens," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. "I want you to plan the best wedding ever. Forget about those zombies from the DOJ. They're not invited. Just our friends and our family and a few oddball characters from the homeless population."

"What?" She asked, looking confused, but still smiling.

"Artie has a few friends," he said with a cocky grin. "Just kidding, Sunshine…maybe."

She shot him that calculating look she has when trying to figure out if he was joking or serious, but his phone rang and interrupted whatever she was about to say.

"Hey, George. Where are you?" He asked, instantly flooded with that familiar feeling of comfort.

"Decided to spend the night in Flagstaff," he replied. "How you feeling, son? Joe said you were still kinda rocky."

"No need to worry. Kensi's taking good care of me," he replied.

"Don't doubt that, but I always worry when you're hurt, son. It's what fathers do," he replied. "Now tell me how you're really doing."

Just the sound of his voice warmed him, and he could feel his strength reaching out to him. So, he told him everything about his injuries and about the persistence of the concussion he'd suffered. The only thing he kept from him was the threat from the DOJ, not wanting him to worry about something that hadn't happened yet.

"We'll get an early start in the morning, so expect us around dinner time," George said. "Joe said there's plenty of room at the house Hetty's lettin' them use, so we'll bed down there."

"Looking forward to seeing you," Deeks said softly, realizing he still felt some residual fear from Maddox's planned attack at the ranch. "Sorry you all got caught up in this mess."

"We handled things. Wasn't your fault, son."

Even though he expected him to say that, it was still reassuring to hear. "It's really good to hear your voice, George."

"Same here, Marty," George replied. "Joe said Soldier wants you two to get married right away. How'd that go over?"

"We're actually thinking about it," Deeks replied, suddenly feeling a thrill at the possibility.

"Littleshield kinda thought you might. Told me last night it's why he came," George said, sounding subdued. "That old Arapaho said he saw a vision…something about your old straw hat washing up on a beach. Don't usually put much stock in the things he sees, but this one gave me chills. I remember that happening near the end of your memorial service. At the time, even Elan thought it was a sign, and he was right. Maybe this is too, son."

Deeks was stunned and they both remained silent for a moment. "Yeah…I think that's exactly what it is."

They continued making small talk and George told him they had purchased a brood mare in Cimarron they'd be picking up on their way back home. He wasn't sure he heard or even understood every detail George shared about the horse's bloodlines, his mind resting on an image in his head of Surfrider beach. As they said their goodbyes, Callen came in, followed by Elan and Soldier. Joe and Di knocked a few minutes later, and conversation filled the room with warmth and comfort, and his eyes flushed with tears as he looked out at his family. Everyone he cared about was here in Los Angeles or would be by tomorrow night, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to marry Kensi surrounded by these people who had come to mean so much to him. Soldier was right. There was no reason to wait. To hell with the DOJ. They had both done their job and had survived. Now all he wanted was to celebrate and share a little happiness with the woman he loved.

…

Deeks paused for only a moment to watch Kensi sleep in the pale morning light, scrunched up in the middle of the bed, her dark hair curling softly over the pillow. Yesterday's concerns and anger had faded for both of them as they'd had dinner with family. She had dragged Di into the living room afterwards while the men did dishes and cleaned up. Callen had issued orders like he normally did on an operation, and Joe complained he didn't have a clue about what he was talking about, countermanding whatever he said until Elan barked at them in Arapaho. None of them allowed him to do anything, Joe and Elan having placed him in a chair out of the action. Soldier had sneaked out to join the girls, but hurried back with a bright smile on his face to report they were discussing wedding plans. The kid seemed captivated by all the details, and Elan had reached out and ruffled his hair as he shared what he'd heard.

Smiling, as he took one last look at his sleeping fiancé, he pulled a worn sweatshirt down over his head and slid his feet into flip-flops. He took a couple of pain pills and pocketed them in his pajama bottoms before stepping out into the hall and softly closing the door behind him. The smell of garlic from last night's spaghetti still hung in the air, making his stomach growl. He had been too nauseous to eat much last night; so feeling hungry made things seem normal. He stopped at the head of the stairs, closing his eyes briefly as he steadied himself and then made his way slowly down, tightly gripping the railing as the steps wavered in front of him. He could smell coffee and was looking forward to a cup, when someone knocked firmly on the front door. He could make out dark shapes through the sandblasted glass and he looked at his watch to check the time. It wasn't even seven o'clock, so Callen was off on his run, and he hadn't remembered Joe or Elan saying anything about coming over for breakfast. A little annoyed, he made his way slowly to the door and opened it. Standing on his front steps in full tactical gear were four FBI agents.

"Agent Martin Deeks? We have orders to bring you in for questioning," the leader said, his tone clipped and businesslike.

"No one told me I needed to report for my debrief today," he said, his anger simmering just below the surface.

"I have my orders, Agent Deeks," the man replied and reached out to take his arm, which Deeks didn't allow.

"And I would have come in if someone had called," he said. "I hardly think I need an armed escort. Has something happened?"

"My superior was concerned you might be trying to evade his questions," the agent said, and nodded to two of his men, who immediately stepped up on either side and took hold of his arms.

"Are you kidding me? What the hell kind of protocol is this? At least let me change."

"You're coming now Agent Deeks, or I will place you in handcuffs," the man said and nodded to his men to move out.

Deeks' anger flared and he tried to pull free of the two men who held him, but their grip only tightened as they yanked him off the steps, and down the walkway to a black SUV. A wave of dizziness struck as he was hustled into the back seat, and he closed his eyes to try and ride it out as the vehicle roared away from the curb. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from cussing them out, but as his breathing evened out he began to mentally talk to himself. He had no choice but to be compliant until he could talk to the man who ordered this.

"Can I at least call my fiancé? She was still asleep when I left," he said as calmly as he could.

"I have orders that you are to be held incommunicado until after you have been questioned," the leader said coldly.

"Am I under arrest?" Stunned by the man's comment.

"No you are not."

"Can you at least tell me where I'm being taken?"

"I'm not at liberty to tell you that, Agent Deeks," he replied. "Now, I strongly suggest you stop asking me questions."

"Okay, but one last thing…whatever your name is. Better tell the driver to slow down on the turns, or I might just throw up all over your nice clean SUV."

The FBI man turned quickly to stare at him wide-eyed and annoyed, while the agents on either side shifted away from him.

"Concussion, asshole," Deeks said. "So unless you have those little white bags the airlines use, you better slow the fuck down."

He didn't tell them he hadn't had any breakfast, but he actually wished he'd had, wondering if he could call up a good puke on an empty stomach. They did cut their speed and the world stopped spinning for the moment, but he closed his eyes anyway and took a deep, slow breath, using a calming technique to get his heart rate down, while he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. What he did know was that someone had overstepped their bounds, because whatever this was, it wasn't a debriefing. He began examining each man's equipment, and it looked authentic, and they certainly acted like the tactical squads he had worked with during his brief stint with the FBI.

"Any of you guys know Joe Atwood?" He asked cheerfully.

The guy beside him started to say something, but a piercing look from his hard ass leader made him reconsider.

"He and I were partners when I was with the FBI," Deeks continued, receiving a hard look of disbelief from the man running things. "We took down a Chinese spy together. Maybe you've heard the stories. Joe was badly wounded. We even had to testify before Congress."

"That was you?" The man on his right asked.

"Maintain silence, agent," the leader ordered.

"Yeah…we became brothers after that," Deeks said wistfully. "He just retired."

"We heard," the man on his left whispered, earning a glare from the man in charge.

Deeks figured if he shared enough personal information, they might give him a hint about where they were going and who was pulling the strings. He had no phone, making it impossible for the team to track him. So he decided to ask if he could make a call again.

"Any of you guys married? Girlfriend? Probably…" He said. "Then you know how pissed they can get when you leave without telling them where you're going."

The driver and one of the men beside him nodded imperceptibly, so he went for it.

"You know, right? And Kensi and I just got engaged, so waking up to me gone without a note or text is not good. She might think I bailed on the wedding," Deeks said. "So come on guys, give me a break, and let me use a phone to call her."

"Agent Deeks I am going to ask you one more time to shut up," the commander said sharply.

Suddenly unable to contain his anger, Deeks exploded. "And if I don't? Then what? You gonna gag me? Go all black ops on my ass and put a hood over my head? I'm an NCIS agent. We're on the same side. Or are we?"

"Are you accusing me of something, Agent Deeks," the commander's voice was harsh, exposing his own anger. "Cause it wasn't me who got three FBI agents killed."

"And it wasn't me either," Deeks replied quietly. "It was a traitor named Weston Maddox, who was under orders from a general named Rasmussen. He was sent to take out my whole team to keep us from testifying at his trial. Your agents tried to stop him and they died saving my life and my fiancé's life. She's the agent who took Maddox down. Now let me call her before she gets the idea that Rasmussen sent another team, which I'm really hoping isn't you guys."

"One of the agents killed was a friend of mine," The leader said, his voice distant and not at all warm and friendly. "And a lot of us want to know why?"

"I just told you why."

"But that's not the whole story, is it Agent Deeks?" he replied.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he said, his anger straining his voice. "Now shut the hell up or I'll gag you myself."

Deeks shook his head, resigned to the fact that he would get no answers here, and stared out the side window trying to get some sense as to where they might be going, since they were nowhere near the FBI field office. A nudge in the ribs from the man on his right reminded him he hadn't taken his pain meds, but when he looked down he saw the agent holding a phone close to his leg. He looked quickly at the other agent beside him, but he was studiously staring out his window, and the squad leader in front couldn't see what was happening in the back seat. The agent gave him a nod and let the phone slide down between them before looking out at the passing scenery. Deeks palmed it, quickly sending a text to Kensi, and keeping the phone on as long as he could, until the agent reached down to take it back. The man's kindness gave him hope that now his team had a way to track him and he slowly let out his breath as the car turned into a garage beneath a nondescript office building on Sepulveda Boulevard north of the airport. The garage was empty except for one other black SUV and he started to get a bad feeling about this. As he was ushered out of the car, he saw simmering anger on the squad leader's face.

"Cuff him," he ordered.

"Are you kidding me?" Deeks protested.

"Orders. Heard of those?" The man asked.

Deeks was pissed, but he put his hands out and allowed himself to be cuffed, wondering once again if Rasmussen's reach was longer than they thought. Someone from the FBI had tipped off Maddox, and he hoped Kensi hadn't slept in and already had Eric working on tracking down his location. The ride up the elevator was tense, but short, the doors opening on the fifth floor and a long hallway leading past empty offices. He was pulled to a stop in front of the one at the end, the sign of the previous tenant hanging loosely by one screw. The leader knocked and opened the door, revealing a large office space that was empty except for a few scattered papers, and two metal office chairs on wheels situated in the middle. A middle-aged man in a gray suit stood with his back to them, looking out the one window not shuttered by blinds.

"What? No tribunal? Just one lone judge?" Deeks called out, trying to smile in spite of his nervousness.

"Ah yes, the smart ass Agent Deeks," the man said as he turned to look at him. "Please come and sit. I have a few questions."

Deeks moved warily toward the chairs, his mind alert as adrenaline flooded his body. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he knew it wasn't good.

"I know you," Deeks said, searching through his memory for how. "You're the FBI rep at my DOJ debriefing in New Orleans."

"So you do remember me," he replied, looking pleased. "Chief Security Officer Donovan Pohl."

"You're the one who said I was lying about Harrison White," Deeks said. "You tried to discredit me."

"Too bad that didn't work out," Pohl said.

"It sure as hell didn't for Harrison," Deeks said cockily.

"And it won't for you either, Agent Deeks," he replied before turning his attention to the squad. "Special Agent Harper? I assume you followed my orders and kept this assignment a secret?"

"Yes sir."

"Then you and your men are no longer needed. I brought my own team."

An adjacent door opened and four men in suits entered, all wearing sunglasses and heavily armed. The tactical squad behind him shifted uneasily, even their hard ass leader seemed uncertain, and Deeks felt the first rush of fear. He shouted out a warning as the men in suits pulled their weapons and fired. All four squad members were dead before they hit the floor.

…

…


	16. Chapter 16

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 16_

…

The ringtone from an incoming text woke her from a lovely dream. Fading images of pale blue water and white sand evaporated as she yawned and stretched, leaving her with a satisfied smile. She sensed his absence, but reached across the bed for him anyway. The cool sheets were all that remained, so she called out his name in the morning silence. Rising up on one elbow, she brushed her hair back and listened. Nothing. No sound of a shower. No rattling of dishes in the kitchen. Nothing. Just silence. It didn't feel right and she called out again as she pushed the bedding away. Any other time she would have assumed he'd gone for a run or to the beach to surf, but not today. Not with a concussion and cracked ribs. Maybe he was in the backyard having his morning coffee, so she got up to peek out the window at the patio. When she didn't see him, confusion heightened her concern, but then she remembered the text and reached for her phone.

taken by FBI

bad vibe

trace this

"What the hell?" She said out loud as fear and anger collided, leaving her breathless for a moment.

"Callen?"

Her shout was met by more silence and she slammed the phone down and tore into her closet, dressing as fast as she could before grabbing up the phone and her gun and rushing out. She was halfway down the stairs when she heard the front door open, and she slowed, bringing her weapon up as she reached the bottom step.

"Callen," she said, lowering her gun as he froze in the doorway.

"Kens? Something I should know?"

"The FBI took Deeks," she said, choking on the words as she tucked her weapon behind her back. "He sent a text from somebody else's phone, Callen. Something's not right."

She held out her phone and he snatched it from her hand, scowling as he read the message. She saw his jaw harden as he quickly used her phone to call in.

"Eric. I need you to trace a text just sent to this phone."

"Okay…give me a second," he replied. "This is Kensi's phone. Who's the text from?"

"Deeks."

"What? Really? Why didn't he use his own phone? I gave it back to him at the hospital. Let me do a quick trace."

"Eric?"

"It's right there in the house,' Eric said quietly. "Why'd he leave it?"

"Not sure," Callen replied. "Does the DOJ have any debriefs scheduled for this morning at a different location?"

"Nell would know," he said. "But she isn't even in yet, and none of the DOJ guys are either. Callen…what's going on?"

"That's what we need to find out," Callen said. "Now get me the location of the phone Deeks used, and any information about who's phone it is."

"On it," Eric replied. "And I sent a heads up to Nell."

"Find him Eric…please," Kensi pleaded.

Callen ended the call and stared at the text message one more time, and then looked up at her, his blue eyes piercing and his mouth in a tight, angry line.

"We missed somebody," he finally said.

Her heart seemed to tighten in her chest at his words, and she felt the prick of tears as she tried to control her fear. Callen wasn't the type to form conclusions without reason, so when he suddenly wrapped her in a gentle hug, she clung to his solid strength, needing to believe there was hope. There was no time to feel sorry for herself. He was in trouble and she had to find him. When her phone rang they broke apart, and she quickly put Eric on speaker.

"That phone belongs to an agent named Robert Isner, a member of an FBI tactical squad. Right now, his phone is at an address on Sepulveda, north of LAX. Do you want me to call it?"

"No, just send us the address, and find out who else is in that squad," Callen said.

"Callen? I talked to Nell. There are no debriefs scheduled for today," Eric said slowly.

"Then why would the FBI take him in?" Kensi asked, confused and even angrier.

"Eric? Find out everything you can about Isner's squad and call Sam. Tell him to meet us at that address."

"Copy that," he replied and was gone.

"Kensi, call Joe," he told her as he moved toward his go-bag. "I'll call Hetty. She may know something by now."

"I thought she was meeting with the Attorney General about our marriage," Kensi said.

"She is, but she's also meeting with Morgan Bellamy, his Deputy Assistant, and Terrance Rigby, head of the Joint Terrorism Task Force."

"Unfinished business," she said, finally understanding. "They've been looking for the guy we all missed."

"Yeah, and I think he just came out of the woodwork," Callen said, as he rammed a mag into his weapon, slid a round into the chamber and tucked it behind his back.

"Tell me he's still alive, Callen," Kensi said. "I need to believe that."

"We all do, Kens."

He didn't assure her and didn't look her in the eye when he said it and it scared her and pissed her off. It couldn't end this way. Not after all they'd been through. It wasn't fair. Hadn't she lost enough people in her life? Didn't Deeks deserve to be happy? Completely happy. Didn't she?

"Don't you give up on him, Callen," she suddenly raged. "Don't you dare do that. He's counting on us, and we are not going to let him down."

He looked stunned by her outburst, his eyes red-rimmed, but intense. She saw the pain in the tears he was holding back by sheer force of will and she realized more than ever before just how close the two men had become. They were brothers, and Callen was fighting his own instincts that told him Deeks was probably already dead. He needed to hold onto some shred of hope as much as she did.

"I should have been here," he said with effort. "This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gone for a run."

"Don't you think I blame myself too?" She said. "I slept right through it. But we don't have time for this right now. We need to go get him."

"You're right," he replied as he pulled his phone. "Hetty needs to know what's happened."

She nodded and hesitated only briefly before calling Joe. His response was what she'd expected. He was instantly roaring mad, and shouting for Elan, but what she hadn't expected was that he knew the FBI agent who had let Deeks use his phone.

"He's a good guy, Kens," he said, suddenly quiet.

"I hope you're right," she replied and gave him the address.

…

…

Deeks stared at the still body of the man who had kindly offered him the use of his phone. He didn't even know his name and now he lay with blank eyes in a spreading pool of his own dark blood, his weapon still in its thigh holster. The hard ass squad leader's hand rested on the butt of his gun, but he'd never had the chance to pull it. He was still stunned and found it hard to look away from the violent scene, but the smell of blood suddenly got to him and nausea roiled his stomach. He stumbled back, afraid he might vomit, and he didn't want to do that in front of the asshole that had ordered this. The subtle, acrid smell of gunpowder wafted around him as the killers moved in to surround him. One stepped in front of him, patting him down for some reason.

"Trust issues?" He asked, but the man stayed silent as he undid his cuffs, and turned him around to face Donovan Pohl.

"Don't do nothin' stupid now, Sport," the killer drawled out, shoving him forward, the others stepping aside to let him pass.

"Brought your own mercs, yeah?" Deeks said softly as he was pulled to a stop in front of the man. "I can see why you and Harrison White are friends. You're both sociopaths, and you both like to watch people die."

The man gave him a tight smile as he slowly sat down in one of the office chairs, crossing his legs as he fastidiously adjusted his blue striped tie. His hair was gray at the temples and plastered to his head. He had prominent ears and a plain face that no one would pick out in a crowd. His watery eyes watched him with intensity and although he looked like the consummate bureaucrat, he was pretty sure this one had a hidden dark side.

"You and Harrison old golfing buddies?" Deeks asked, playing for time. "Or maybe…fraternity brothers in college? Ivy League school I'm guessing. Chased coeds together, yeah? Unsuccessfully probably."

Deeks saw Pohl's eyes leave his and the barrel of a weapon slammed down on the top of his shoulder. He grunted in pain and stumbled, but he didn't fall.

"Okay, okay…that comment about you not scoring in college was a little low," he gasped out. "You probably did better with small animals."

This time the butt of an assault rife caught him under the ribcage and sent him to his hands and knees, where he stayed to try and catch his breath. He was really sorry he hadn't taken his pain pills earlier, but as he sat back, he fumbled in his pocket to find them. As he pulled them out, his wrist was grabbed and his arm forced up behind his back, the pills falling from his hand.

"You're just gonna have to hurt, Sport."

Yanked to his feet, he was shoved into the other office chair and his hands cuffed behind it. Sporty rolled the chair up close in front of Donovan Pohl, and he closed his eyes and tried to stop the room from spinning.

"Harrison said you were annoying. And cocky," the man began as he picked a perceived piece of lint off his sleeve. "He also said you played the part of a dim-witted, hotheaded thug very well. You impressed him, and that's not easy to do. But, you made him quite angry by resisting his interrogation techniques, and Harrison hates it when someone gets the better of him. He holds an intense hatred for you, Agent Deeks. He wants you dead."

"So, he asked you to do his dirty work," Deeks said.

"It's called wet work, Sport."

"Really? Good to know, asshole," Deeks said, and the man snorted out a laugh.

"Now, Agent Deeks, the question you should be asking yourself is why you're still alive," Pohl said, with a tight, irksome smile.

"The thought did cross my mind," he answered. "You gonna tell me, or do I have to guess?"

"I need to know if my connection to Harrison White has been discovered," Pohl said, his voice turning icy cold.

"No coeds have come forward that I know of," he replied with a cocky grin.

Donovan Pohl held his hand up before Sporty could hit him, and he let out the breath he was holding.

"You will tell me, Agent Deeks," Pohl said as he leaned forward in his chair, reaching out to put a hand on each of his knees, sending chills down his back, and memories roaring through his head.

He felt something dark crawl up through his gut and he no longer wanted to control his anger. It was if Jimmy Hale and Max Gentry were fighting for dominance. When the man's hands moved slowly up his thighs, he pushed back with one foot and kicked out with the other, slamming his heel as hard as he could into the man's ankle. Pohl gasped at the pain and pushed away from him, spewing out curses and orders. He was suddenly in a chokehold and struggling to breathe, so he pushed the chair back into the merc and tried to wheel his way out of the hold. Pain exploded in his head as Sporty tightened his grip, but when one of the others slammed the butt of his assault rifle down on his knee and then up into his gut, he blacked out.

A dousing of water brought him back, and he raised his head to see the kill squad standing all around him, and they did not look pleased.

"That water felt good…thanks," he said with a weary grin.

He was woozy, but slowly realized his ankles had been tied behind the center column of the chair, and he looked up to see Donovan Pohl standing in front of him.

"Ever been waterboarded, Agent Deeks?" He asked, his jacket and tie now gone.

"Kind of old school, isn't it?" He replied, trying to swallow down his sudden fear.

"You asked how I knew Harrison," he said, and began rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. "We were tasked with interrogations for the CIA in the early days of the war in Iraq. We were quite good at it. And when we discovered we both enjoyed the rougher aspects of that particular game, we became friends."

Deeks didn't reply as he tried to prepare himself for what lay ahead. Sam had told him about the effects of waterboarding after he'd made a joke about it, so he was aware of the pain to come. But, he was a surfer, and he'd experienced ingesting a lot of water when he occasionally wiped out. He was also quite good at holding his breath underwater for a long time. However, knowing all that didn't mitigate the fear that was now churning in the pit of his stomach. He was tied down, with no control or any way of knowing how long he would have to endure.

"You're afraid, aren't you Agent Deeks?" Pohl said softly as he moved to his side and placed a hand at the base of his neck, leaning over him so closely he could smell his cologne. "I've had men beg me to stop after the first treatment. And that was only after fifteen seconds. Drowning isn't a fun way to die, Agent Deeks. So, unless you tell me if anyone knows about me, and the names of those that do, I will bring you as close to death by drowning as I can. And believe me when I tell you, I'm very good at it."

"Fuck you."

The man smiled, the look on his face disturbing. "We'll get to that Agent Deeks."

When he stepped away, two of the mercs moved up on either side of him and lifted the chair off the floor and flipped it over, dropping him onto his back. He struggled, but it did no good as a man kneeled above his head and draped a soft towel over his face. It was pulled down tightly and he was having trouble sucking in air as he tried to anticipate when the water would come. His heart was racing, but still no water was poured. He began to sweat and his stomach tightened as he waited, his muscles taut and quivering in anticipation. Yet, still no water. He managed a few muffled curses, his head now spinning with bright coronas of pain. He started to struggle again, but the man pulled the cloth even tighter while he roared out his anger and frustration, wanting them to get on with it. Then the lukewarm water hit him just as someone drove their foot into his stomach, driving the air from his lungs. He tried to fight the instinct to draw in a breath, but he failed and choked on the water that poured down relentlessly and he began to panic. He tried to count off the seconds but he couldn't seem to keep the numbers straight, overwhelmed by the volumes of warm water that filled his mouth and nose. He was drowning and it scared the hell out of him. Holding his breath was no longer an option and as his lungs began to burn, his mind became fuzzy and pain filled his chest as he slowly edged toward unconsciousness.

He slowly became aware that he was alive and upright and the towel was gone. He began coughing as water drained from his nose and mouth, his chest heaving as he tried to draw in much needed air. Then Pohl straddled him, sitting down on his lap, slapping him to get his attention.

"You lasted longer than most," Pohl said quietly. "Want to answer my question, Agent Deeks, or do you want to go for the record?"

Before he could say anything, the wet towel was wrapped around his eyes and nose and he panicked, fighting to be free of it. His head was jerked back and Pohl hand slid up to his throat.

"You realize now, this is very personal," he whispered as a slow, steady stream of water was poured over his nose and eyes. It stung. It wasn't just water and his eyes began to burn. The liquid filled his nose and slid down his throat and he sputtered, spitting it out as he struggled.

"I can do this all day, Agent Deeks. I rather enjoy it," the man said, his voice calm, almost soothing. "One more round, and then we'll talk."

He choked out his rage with curses as the liquid slowly continued to pour down in a never-ending stream. His eyes and throat were on fire, and he realized he was begging the man to stop, sounding desperate even to himself. But Pohl didn't stop, and any hope he harbored slowly drained away.

…

…

Sam grabbed her arm as she rushed toward the stairwell in the parking garage. She wrenched free and glared at him, but Callen stepped in front of her and put a finger to his lips and told her they had to go as silently as they could. She understood, but her heart was pounding in her ears so hard it muted his whispered words. The looks of anger and determination on all of their faces made her take a moment to collect herself, and she finally nodded and slowed down.

Everything was done with hand signals as they made their way up the stairs to the first floor. Eric hadn't been able to determine which floor they might be holding Deeks on, so they had to check the offices on every one, and Kensi felt her frustration growing. She was thankful it wasn't a large building, but it still took valuable time as they quickly spread out on every floor to check each office, signaling with thumbs up if the rooms were clear. It helped that the doors to empty offices had been left open. It made the search easier.

By the time they reached the fifth floor, her nerves were so on edge she was vibrating. When Elan held up a fist to stop them, she knew this was the floor and she pushed forward up the stairs, until Joe's hand gripped her shoulder and stopped her. Elan had point, and had peeked through the doorway. There was a guard. The big Arapaho pulled a lethal looking knife from behind his back and signaled he would take him out. So once again she had to wait.

Her mind was full of disparate thoughts, tumbling over one another as she waited. She wondered why he hadn't called out to her when they came for him, suddenly angry with him. Love and anger battled each other, and she began to tremble from excess adrenaline. Joe must have noticed, gently touching her back to try and calm her. He had tears in his eyes.

Elan's return got them moving, but her heart clutched at the look on his face. He mouthed the word 'blood' as they gathered by the door, and she dropped her head, feeling defeated and a empty. But Sam shot her a look of determination as he pushed past her, his face hard and focused. Callen followed, his knuckles almost white as he gripped his weapon. She took a deep breath and steeled her heart as she moved in front of Joe. The two cousins followed silently, all of them stepping over the dead man in the hall and then edging along the side walls as they checked each office.

The hallway took a turn at the end, but Elan stepped forward to point at the blood that had seeped under the door in front of them. Then they heard voices, and strangled pleas that were abruptly cut off. It was Deeks, and she wouldn't wait one more second, rushing forward just as Sam slammed into the door. Everyone crowded in behind her, stepping over the dead bodies that lay just inside, each one yelling as they fired at the armed men standing amid a collection of plastic water jugs. A man gripping the towel over Deeks' face fell backwards as Elan's knife struck him in the throat, blood erupting from his mouth when he hit the floor. The man straddling Deeks still held a jug of pinkish water over his face, and her anger roared unchecked as she fired, exploding the gallon jug and causing the man to curse and leap backwards, his arms held out in front of him as if pleading for his life. She would have shot him if Callen hadn't stepped in front of her. He rushed the man and pistol-whipped him to the ground, finally staring down at him with his gun pointed at his face.

She noticed the sudden silence and looked briefly at the dead before turning to see if the man she loved was still alive.

"Deeks?"

Kensi spoke his name, but it sounded muted, and she wondered if she'd said it out loud. Joe pulled the towel from his face and he slumped unconscious in the chair, scaring her badly. Elan cut him free and Sam caught him in his arms, lowering him to the wet floor. His body was limp, his eyes red and blistered and she was crying as she knelt beside him.

"Please tell me he's alive, Sam," her voice full of tears.

"Call an ambulance G. He's not breathing," Sam said, giving her a look full of sorrow before starting CPR.

She took one of his hands and Joe gripped his shoulder as they waited, Elan kneeling at his head with his eyes closed, mumbling in Arapaho. Callen was pacing, distraught as he talked to Eric, finally yelling angrily into the phone. She looked up at him as he came over to watch Sam work, his expression so full of anguish it broke her heart into even more tiny pieces.

The cough she heard was faint, but it sent a bolt of electricity through her and she saw Elan open his eyes. His coughing suddenly became violent and Sam smiled with relief and turned him on his side as water poured from his mouth.

"We got you, brother," Sam said over and over. "Just breathe, Deeks…just breathe."

He was soaking wet and trembling when he finally quit coughing up water and by then they heard the sirens. Elan put his big hand on Deeks' head for a moment, speaking softly in Arapaho and then looked over at the man who had done this. He pulled a combat knife from his boot and stood up, the look on his face murderous.

"Elan? Don't," Joe said.

"Why?" He replied as he walked over and grabbed a handful of the man's hair, jerking his head up off the floor.

Callen had cuffed the man's hands behind his back, but he was conscious, and his eyes went wide as he stared at the knife in Elan's fist.

"Come on, Cuz. Give me a good reason why I shouldn't butcher this piece of shit."

"Because Deeks will want you at his wedding," Joe said as he pulled Deeks into his arms. "You kill that fuck, and maybe Soldier grows up without a father."

"We're the only ones here, Cuz," Elan said.

"But, none of us are cold blooded killers," Joe replied. "You're one of the good guys, remember?"

Elan nodded and then bent down and pressed the tip of the knife against the man's throat, speaking harshly to him in Arapaho. It was almost as if he understood what Elan was saying, his face becoming even more pale than it already was. By the time Elan was finished, he was pleading for his life, begging for the others to stop him. No one moved or said a word as they waited to see what Elan would do.

"You better confess to everything you did here," Elan said in English. "Because if you don't, and if you somehow manage to get off, I will find you and I will shove this knife up your skinny ass and leave it there. And I'm pretty sure you're the kind of bastard who knows exactly what I'm talking about."

Elan banged the man's face into the floor and blood spurted from his nose, but he left him alive. When he turned to walk back to where everyone hovered over Deeks, Callen squeezed his shoulder and walked with him.

Deeks was still shivering, but he was slowly becoming aware that they were there and that he was safe.

"Kensi?"

His voice was raw and he reached out to her, his hand shaking as she took it and pulled it to her lips. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."

"I can't see, Kens. There was something in the water," he stammered, and she heard Sam curse as he grabbed for one of the jugs of clear water that remained.

"I need to flush that stuff out of your eyes, Deeks, okay?" He said as Joe held him. "Do you understand? Just your eyes, okay."

Deeks pressed himself back against his brother, shaking violently until Callen knelt down and placed a hand on his chest.

"All of us are right here with you, kid," he told him. "Sam won't hurt you. You know that. He just needs to clean out your eyes so you can see again."

Kensi felt his grip on her hand tighten as Sam began pouring the water over his eyes, coaxing him to open them as much as he could. Kensi was crying by the time he was through, but Deeks whispered out his thanks as the room suddenly became crowded with cops and EMTs.

…

…


	17. Chapter 17

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 17_

…

The initial chaos had settled into routine, everyone speaking in muted voices as they went about the business of securing the crime scene. Joe felt a deep sadness as he stood over the dead body of Bobby Isner, the man who had lent Deeks his phone. If he hadn't performed that one, simple, kindhearted act, he had no doubt that his brother would have died here with him. An ME knelt quietly beside the body, but looked up at him before she proceeded, and he nodded to her before turning away from the man he now would never be able to repay. The others were still gathered around Deeks, who was sitting on a gurney with his nose and mouth covered by an oxygen mask, tightly gripping a blanket they had wrapped around him. He still looked shaken and wary of anyone other than his family, and Joe felt his anger stir once again, not that it had ever completely faded. Kensi looked stunned, never letting go of his hand. Callen was on the phone, but continued to watch Deeks as the EMTs examined him. Sam hovered, warning away any detective or cop who tried to question him, while Elan stood a little ways off, keeping an eye on Deeks and on the man the police now had sitting in one of the office chairs.

"Atwood?"

He turned as his former boss Roger Stinson entered the room and stopped, his face ashen. Several FBI agents followed him in, looking stunned by the carnage. Stinson stood silently shaking his head, his jaw flexing in anger as he stared down at the forever still bodies of one of his elite tactical squads.

"What the hell happened?" His old boss asked as he skirted the dead men to get to him, his eyes taking in Deeks and finally settling on the man responsible for it all.

"And why in hell is one of my Chief Security Officers in handcuffs?" He demanded, moving quickly forward.

"He works for you?" Sam asked.

"Yes he does, Agent Hannah," he replied. "Now, who's responsible for my four dead agents?"

"Your CSO over there ordered them to bring Deeks here, then he had them killed," Callen said, his jaw tight with residual anger.

"And then he waterboarded Deeks," Sam added, his voice booming out across the room.

"He and Harrison White are old buddies," Deeks said wearily, after pulling away the oxygen mask. "Bonded while torturing Iraqis for information."

"He's your leak, sir," Joe said quietly.

"We believe he's the one who gave our team's location to Weston Maddox and got your other three agents killed," Callen said.

Joe had never really seen his old boss quite this angry before, but the expression on Stinson's face was lethal as he stalked toward Pohl. Even though he was no longer an agent, Joe followed him. He liked the man and was afraid he might lose his composure and do something that could come back to haunt him. Elan also stepped up next to him as he confronted Donovan Pohl.

"Those were all good men you had killed," Stinson hissed out. "They served their country with honor. They had families, you piece of shit."

"Everyone has families," Pohl said, his eyes cold and his voice distant as if bored.

Stinson looked ready to explode, his hands curling into fists as he stared at the man, and Joe reached out to take his arm, afraid he might hit the bastard.

"He been read his rights?" Joe asked one of the LAPD officers, and getting a nod in return.

"Mind if I do the honors, sir?" Deeks asked, surprising Joe as he slid off the gurney and stood resolutely beside it, finally pushing past Kensi and Sam as he found the strength to move.

"Deeks…" Kensi grabbed his arm as he stumbled, but he didn't stop.

"I earned this one, baby," he said, coughing a bit as he stopped in front of the man.

"You're finished, you fuck," Deeks said. "You…White…Rasmussen…All of you."

"This isn't over, Agent Deeks," Pohl said with a smile that made Joe want to smack him in the face.

"Seriously? You believe you're getting out of this?" Deeks asked, his voice getting louder as he spoke.

"One never knows, but I wouldn't get too comfortable if I were you," Pohl replied. "It's your word against mine, and I have a lot of important friends."

"Not after this you won't," Callen said. "You were partners with Newton Pierce and Harrison White. You'll be charged with treason."

"Agent Deeks…you're the only one claiming I have ties to those people," Pohl replied, staring confidently at him. "A good interrogator could make you recant easily. I made you beg, remember?"

Elan had his knife out and against the man's throat in an instant, and Stinson put his hands on Joe's chest to hold him back.

"And you better remember the promise I made," Elan growled, punctuating his comment with a final sentence in Arapaho.

"Stand down, Elan," Sam said. "Tell 'em, G."

"I just got off the phone with Morgan Bellamy, the Deputy Assistant Attorney General. He informed me that Harrison White has made another deal," Callen said with a smirk as he stepped up in front of Donovan Pohl. "He threw you under the bus Donovan, so he could serve out his sentence in a slightly nicer prison. He told us everything about your involvement."

"So basically, you're toast," Sam said flippantly.

"Go ahead Deeks. Arrest him," Roger Stinson said quietly. "Then we'll get him out of here. He doesn't deserve to be in the same room with the good men he had killed."

"Donovan Pohl you are under arrest for the murder of four federal agents and for high treason," Deeks said, his voice hoarse, but strong.

"And for the torture and attempted murder of Federal Agent Martin Deeks," Stinson said as two of his agents pulled Donovan Pohl to his feet.

The man looked stunned and furious, his confidence faltering, slowly replaced by resignation and defeat. Joe kept his eyes on Deeks as the man was shoved past them all and hustled toward the far door. When he saw his brother waver, he stepped up and wrapped his arm around his waist just as Kensi did on the other side.

"Come on, brother. Let's get you back on that gurney before you fall down," Joe said softly.

"I'm good now," he replied with a weary smile.

"No you're not, Deeks," Sam said, his face full of concern. "And don't pretend you are, or I'll kick your ass all the way to the hospital."

"Seriously?"

"Don't I look serious?" Sam replied.

"He's pretty much always serious, brother," Callen said as Deeks eased himself down onto the gurney.

Joe helped him stretch out and the EMTs quickly took over, wrapping him a blanket and readjusting the oxygen mask. His eyes began to blink slowly, and Kensi took his hand as he finally gave in to exhaustion. Joe felt the sudden need to touch him, and put a hand on his leg as the procession moved toward the door Pohl had been led through. When they reached the remaining elevator, it was only big enough for the gurney, Kensi and the two EMTs, so the rest of them headed back to the stairs. They were silent until they reached the second floor landing.

"Sam?" Elan said, stopping and turning to face the big agent. "He's going to be okay, right?"

Elan was one of the toughest men he knew, so Joe was surprised by the deep sadness and worry he saw on his face. The two hadn't talked much about what had happened after Deeks was rescued from Newton Pierce and Harrison White, but Sam had told him that it was Elan who had been sent into the hospital to discover if Deeks had survived. When Joe had asked him about it, Elan had refused to discuss it. And now he wondered if Elan wasn't reliving that now.

"If there are no complications, he should be fine," Sam said honestly.

"What kind of complications?" Joe asked, now beginning to worry himself.

"He could develop pneumonia," Sam said. "We got to him pretty fast, so I don't think there'll be any lasting effects or brain damage."

Joe and Elan looked quickly at each other, fear flaring in both their eyes. Then he saw Callen shake his head as he reached over and clapped them both on the shoulder.

"He's gonna be fine, guys," Callen said as he started down the remaining stairs.

"We wouldn't be able to tell anyway," Sam said with a laugh. "He's already goofy."

"I'm gonna tell him you said that, and then you'll be off the Best Man list," Joe said as they hurried down the stairs.

"You're all off that list," Callen said with a giggle.

"Wait. How do you know that?" Elan asked.

"Is it you, G?" Sam asked as they opened the door to the garage.

Callen just laughed and walked over to Kensi as the EMTs got Deeks settled in the ambulance. She looked worn out herself, but Joe could tell she was still angry and operating in protection mode. When she turned to look at him she was close to tears, and he gently pulled her into a hug. She clutched his shirt and whispered her thanks before letting him go.

"Do you think Diane could come to the hospital?" She asked.

"I'll stop by and pick her up," Joe promised.

When the ambulance doors closed behind her, Joe felt as if all the adrenaline that had been pumping through him just suddenly stopped and whatever strength he had simply disappeared. They all just stood there, staring at the ambulance as it wove it's way between the police cars and out onto the street.

"Please tell me this fucking mess is over," Joe said to no one in particular.

"Yeah, brother. It's over," Callen said. "Finally."

"You okay, Cuz?" Elan asked.

"Not really," he replied, feeling drawn out and weary. "I do know I made the right decision to get out of this life. At least for now. I need a break…especially from fucks like Donovan Pohl and Harrison White, Maddox and Guidry and all the other inhuman bastards we come up against every day. I'm just tired of dealing with it all."

Elan draped an arm across his shoulder and pulled him close. "The ranch is waiting for you, Cuz. It'll be good to have you home."

"I just wish Marty would come too," he said. "Before someone does manage to kill him."

As those words struck them, he could see the residual effects of the day on their faces. They had come so close to losing their brother today and as hard as they would try to push the memories into the dark recesses of their minds, they wouldn't be able to. Seeing a man you care so deeply about being tortured in that particular way would stay with them for a long time. He knew it would wake him in the dead of night and merge with all the other painful memories he kept fighting to forget.

"Come on, Joe. Let's go see how he's doing," Callen said, his voice soft and his eyes betraying the leftover anger that had yet to fade.

…

…

He woke up coughing and immediately panicked, jerking upright as he fought against the rapidly disappearing shadows of his nightmare. A sharp stab in his side made him grimace and he closed his eyes, panting out short puffs of breath in an attempt to lessen the pain. When he felt a hand on his arm, he was suddenly filled with rage.

"Get off me," he shouted, his throat raw and painful.

"It's just me, son," George said quietly. "Don't hurt yourself now."

"Sorry…" he said, laying his head back on the pillow as the pain in his side slowly eased. "When did you get here? What time is it?"

"Slow down, boy. Just rest a minute," George said, patting him gently on the arm. "It's way past dinner, and I told Kensi we would sit with you while she grabbed a bite to eat."

"The others are in some meeting with that little boss of yours," Jim Littleshield said as he rose from a chair by the window. "You were sleepin' so Elan and Soldier took Di and Chris on back home…well, the place that little lady gave 'em to stay in. Us too. Big old fancy place. Sure is full of stuff."

"Probably some pretty weird stuff," Deeks said, relaxing with the slow cadence of the old Arapaho's comment.

"It's her place. Guess she can fill it with whatever she wants," he replied. "I was afraid I might break something, though. Never seen a kitchen that big."

"About the size of the living room at home," George agreed.

As the two men calmly discussed Hetty's collections, he began to relax, smiling as the soothing tone of their voices eased the anxiety he was feeling after his dream.

"Joe told me what that man did to you, son," George said. "If you need to talk about it, we'll listen. Might help to get it out."

"Yeah…no…," he said, feeling his stomach clutch into knots. "Just not sure I'm ready."

"I won't press you, son," George said softly. "But you know you can when you need to."

"I know."

"Soldier wanted to stay and talk to you. He was damn upset," Littleshield said. "But Elan thought better of it. That boy's a little bullheaded. If he wants to know somethin' he just plows on ahead without thinkin'."

"The boy wanted the details, especially when he saw how upset his father was," George added. "Elan wouldn't tell him anything."

"Mind if we talk about something else?" Deeks asked. "Like when I can go home."

"Doc says you're running a fever," George said. "Wants to get it down before releasing you. Doesn't want it turning into pneumonia. Concerned about your concussion too."

"Sonofabitch," Deeks breathed out.

"Losing your patience won't do any good, son," George said.

"Fuck patience. I'm tired of all this shit," he said loudly and bitterly, his anger surging. "I just want to be by myself without someone hassling me, or beating the crap outa me or trying to drown me. And I don't want to talk about it or get debriefed on it or share my feelings about it. I just want to go home."

"Why don't we go and let you rest," George said, backing away from the bed. "If you want, we'll check in on you in the morning."

"Yeah…of course," Deeks said, his anger simmering as he turned away from the two old ranchers.

He knew he'd hurt their feelings, especially George's, but he wasn't sorry they were gone. He needed to be alone. He needed to process what had happened and his reaction to it and he couldn't do it with people around. He began taking off all the monitors that were attached to his body and then slowly slid the IV out of his arm. He threw off the blankets and as he dropped the side rail and swung his legs gingerly over the edge of the bed he heard a low, soft laugh.

"Ya wouldn't be tryin' ta break out of the hospital now would ya, lad?" Mick Rafferty asked as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

"Raffy? What the hell are you doing here?" Deeks asked, surprised to see his old partner. "How did you know I was here?"

"Now that is a downright insultin' remark, even for you, lad," Rafferty said. "I'm a cop. A sergeant, remember? I'm even wearin' the uniform. And, I know how ta find a man, specially one as dumb as you."

"You heard," Deeks said, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, lad. I heard," He replied. "Now get back in bed. I know what ya went through and a night in here won't hurt ya. If Granny was still alive, she'd whup your ass with that willow switch of hers for even tryin' ta leave."

"God, Raffy. I didn't know," Deeks said, the loss of that remarkable, but odd little woman rocking him. "When…and why the hell didn't you call me?"

"I did, lad. Six or seven times. Got no answer," Rafferty said as he tucked the blanket in around Deeks' legs. "Thought you were probably out of town, or moved maybe. We haven't talked in six or seven years, lad."

"When did she die?"

"Middle of August."

"I was in Louisiana," Deeks said. "Did she suffer, Mick?"

"No, lad. Died quietly in her sleep," he replied softly. "She was ninety-four."

"I'm so sorry, Mick. She was something," Deeks said, embarrassed by his sudden tears. "I thought she'd live forever."

"We all did," he replied, looking down as he wiped at his eyes. "She loved ya, lad. Talked about ya all the time. You two were the only ones who ever called me Raffy. I've missed your crazy ass, Marty. Isabel still tells stories about ya."

"The funny ones or the scary ones?" Deeks asked.

"Andy used ta like the scary ones. He's in high school now," Mick said, smiling proudly. "But our little girl…now she likes the silly ones."

"Seriously? Did Isabel…? I mean, you know…did she..?"

"Yeah, lad. We made one of our own this time," Mick said. "She's four years old and already a holy terror. I'm tellin' ya, Marty, she might well be the reincarnation of Granny. But she's a pretty little thing. Looks like her mother."

"She caught a lucky break there," Deeks said, and they laughed quietly together. "I'm so happy for Isabel. I know how much she wanted to have a child. I bet she's a real sweetie. What's her name?"

"We named her Bria, after Granny," Rafferty said with a soft smile. "She'll break some hearts, that one."

"It's good to see you, buddy. Missed that Irish accent. Got thicker the harder you rode my ass," Deeks said, smiling at the memories.

"Ya did need a good kick in the pants once in a while," Mick said.

"You still have those weekend get-togethers with that big old crazy family of yours?" Deeks asked wistfully.

"Yeah, but it's not the same without Granny. We're all older. Not much wiser, though," he laughed. "But everyone still comes, except Erin. She hasn't come since her divorce last year. Poor Kyle really didn't stand a chance, ya know?"

"Is she okay?" Deeks asked, not terribly surprised by the news.

"She's moving to New York," Mick said. "Got a job as a reporter with the New York Times."

"Are you kidding me? That'll be perfect for her," Deeks said with mixed feelings. "New York won't know what hit 'em."

"She seems happy. As happy as Erin can get," Mick said. "She asked about ya after her divorce was final. Wanted me ta find out if you were seeing anyone. Told her ta let it be. Now I'm wondering if I was right ta do that."

"Yeah, Raffy. You were right," Deeks said, unable to keep a shy smile from his face.

"Uh oh. I remember that look. Tell me about her, Marty," Raffy said with a slow grin. "Whoever she is, I hope she knows what's she's gettin' into. You're a handful, lad."

"I know," Kensi said as she stepped into the room.

She had the remains of that protective look on her face, but it softened when she looked at him. He smiled, hoping for one in return.

"Hey, baby. This is my old partner, Mick Rafferty. The hard ass Irish cop I told you about," Deeks said. "Raffy. This is my fiancé, Kensi Blye."

"You agreed ta marry this wild man?" Rafferty asked. "Have ya no sense of self preservation, girl?"

"I can take care of myself, if that's what you're asking," Kensi said as she walked up to the bed. "Didn't he tell you I'm a federal agent?"

"She's my partner, Mick," Deeks said as Kensi took his hand.

"He'll be hell ta live with, Kensi Blye, but if you're his partner ya already know that," Rafferty said, before turning to wink at Deeks. "Ya always were a lucky sonofabitch, Marty. She's a beauty and ya probably don't deserve her, but if the whole Rafferty clan isn't invited to the wedding, I'm sending Isabel and every one of my bossy sisters over ta harass ya till we are."

"Isabel would kill me if I didn't," Deeks said.

"She wouldn't do that, lad," Mick said, his big voice softening. "Ya come close ta dying today, but I didn't tell her. She never liked seeing you hurt. Me either. Still don't."

His comment left them silent, and Deeks looked up into the eyes of the man who'd tried his best to keep him out of undercover work. Now, after everything that had happened since they went to find Joe in Louisiana, he wondered if he shouldn't have listened. He squeezed Kensi's hand and then asked her if she could give him a minute alone with his old partner. She leaned over and kissed him and gave Mick a warning look before turning to leave, and Rafferty raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Isabel is gonna like that girl," Mick said when the door closed. "Now…what's bothering ya, lad?"

"I actually wondered when you were gonna verbally kick my ass for being here," Deeks said. "Or have you mellowed over the years?"

"Tore into the uniform who came up ta tell me what happened, if that answers your question," Mick said, sounding a lot more gruff than when Kensi was in the room.

"What'd he tell you?" Deeks asked.

"More than I wanted to hear, but no details. Not that I need 'em. I know what waterboarding is," Mick replied, his jaw flexing angrily just like he remembered. "I hope ta hell someone shot that fuckin' bastard."

"No, but they let me arrest the sonofabitch," Deeks said, smiling at the familiar anger of the man.

"How ya dealin' with it all?" Rafferty asked, watching him carefully.

"Not sure I am yet," he replied.

"That why ya were trying ta leave?"

"Hard to think in here," he said, feeling his anger rise once again. "This is the end of a long assignment. A hard one. So, I'm not sure what I'm feeling accept exhaustion and anger."

"I'll help ya any way I can, lad," Mick said firmly, and Deeks felt his throat tighten.

"You've changed, Mick," Deeks said. "Not as rough and tough as you used to be. You didn't even cuss me out for being stupid."

"You were never stupid, lad. Just too cocky for your own good and foolhardy when it came to undercover work," Rafferty said. "Don't know how you're still alive, to be honest. That's why I tore into that patrolman. Used to tell my squad stories about ya. Mostly ta teach em what not ta do."

"Glad I could be of help, Raffy," Deeks said with a soft laugh.

"The first thing outa his mouth was your name," he continued without a smile. "I stopped him right there so I could prepare myself. I thought he was gonna tell me you were dead."

"Came close a lot on this assignment," Deeks replied in a whisper, suddenly clutching the sheets in his fists. "But…the waterboarding…it..."

"It scared ya."

"Yeah."

"Keep talking, lad."

"I've been a surfer since I was a kid," Deeks said slowly. "For me there was no such thing as a bad day on the water. It's where I used to go to escape my dad. Out there…on my board…I've always felt safe. The ocean always been a special place for me."

"And the waterboarding changed that," Rafferty said, his eyes full of understanding and sadness.

"I've never…I've never been afraid out there…on the ocean," Deeks said, stumbling over the words he found so hard to say. "Now…I'm scared I will be."

"I remember how much ya loved ta surf. I always knew where ta find ya," Mick said as he gently squeezed Deeks' shoulder. "Don't let that bastard take that away from ya, lad."

"How do I do that, Raffy?"

"Ya already know the answer ta that, Marty," he replied. "It's where ya were going when I came in. The beach."

…

 _Mick Rafferty and his family were introduced in my story The Collector, which takes place when Deeks was a rookie cop._

…

…


	18. Chapter 18

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 18_

…

He remembered sneaking out of the house as a little boy. Maybe not quite this early, but it felt the same and he knew he'd be in as much trouble now as he'd been back then when everyone discovered he'd checked himself out of the hospital and gone dark. Kensi would be furious, but he hoped she would forgive him. She had to. They were engaged. At least he hoped that's how it worked. What his brothers would say, he'd just as soon not think about.

Raffy had come at five thirty, just as he'd asked. The man had never been an early riser, and the normal early morning grumpiness he remembered was the only thing about the bleak hour he found amusing. The chief resident had insisted he let her check his temperature and listen to his lungs, but he refused until Rafferty clamped a big hand down solidly on his shoulder and simply told her to do it, telling him he was used to dealing with children now and to quit acting like one.

Now, as the two of them stood staring at the cold waves breaking loudly in the semidarkness, he felt the man's hand on the base of his neck, urging him forward.

"Come on lad. Standing in the parking lot won't give ya any answers," Mick said, the muted words rumbling out of his chest.

Topanga Beach was not one of his favorite surf spots, but it was close to the hospital and one he didn't think Kensi and the others would know about. It wouldn't officially open till the sun came up, so there were no lifeguards yet, but there were a few diehards already out on the waves.

"I wiped out here once," he said when they reached the sand and he hesitated to go any further.

"I figured it had ta have some significance," Rafferty said. "How bad?"

"I was a young teenager. My mom was back in the hospital, and I needed to escape all the crap I was dealing with," he replied, the memories still painful after all these years. "I was on probation for a joy ride my friend Ray and I took, but instead of checking in like I was supposed to, I came here."

"Sounds like it was a lonely time for ya, lad."

He ignored the kind statement, clinging instead to the anger he had felt that day. "I was angry with the world, Mick. The surf was rough and roaring and I pushed too hard into the break, and I paid the price. Went under hard. Wasn't even sure which way was up. Tumbled over and over till I hit the bottom. Couldn't breathe and panicked, which is exactly the wrong thing to do."

"Is that what ya did yesterday?"

"Yeah. Big time," he whispered. "I begged that sonofabitch to stop, Raffy. I begged…"

"Give yourself a break, Marty," Rafferty said, squeezing his shoulder gently. "No one's blamin' ya for that."

Deeks broke away from him and started toward the water. He had always embraced the power of the sea. It was vast, making his problems seem small in comparison. It was a place of isolation where he could distance himself from any tumult in his life, but he never felt lonely out beyond the break. He found solitude there. He found himself. His true self. Now he wasn't sure what he would find if he ever had the nerve to venture out there again.

…

…

"Callen? Is he with you?" Kensi asked, gripping the phone tightly, disappointment and confusion mixing with her anger.

"Who? Deeks? Where are you?" Callen sounded sleepy and surprised.

"The hospital. Callen…He checked himself out," she answered.

"Did you call him?" He asked, and she could hear the urgency in his voice.

"His phone is off," she said anxiously. "The nurses say he left with someone. Callen…you don't think…"

"Did you get a description?" He asked, sounding rushed. "If not…get one. Then call Eric to search the security footage. I'll call Joe and Sam."

"Please, tell me this isn't happening again," she said softly.

"Kensi…we'll find him. And if he did this on his own, we'll let Sam and Elan kick his butt."

"No. I will personally do that myself," she promised.

She stood silently staring at her phone, trying to remember if he had said anything before she left last night. His old partner had still been there. Maybe he knew something and she quickly called Eric.

"Hey Kens. What's up?"

"Deeks left the hospital and turned his phone off," speaking rapidly, her nerves frayed. "I need you to get the security footage from the hospital."

"On it. Is he in trouble again?" He asked.

"I don't know," she replied softly. "And I need an address for an LAPD Officer named Mick Rafferty."

"What? Why? Is he involved?" Eric asked, sounding wary and confusing her. "Does Hetty know?"

"Eric? Is there something going on?" She said. "I met Rafferty last night at the hospital. He's Deeks old partner."

"Yeah… I kinda already know that," Eric replied softly. "It's a long story, but his address is on your phone."

"Tell me what the hell you know right now," she said, using the voice she normally used for a suspect.

"I did a lot of freelance stuff for Hetty before any of you came to NCIS," he said. "She had me do a search into Deeks' background when he was a rookie patrolman with the LAPD."

"And Mick Rafferty was his partner," she added.

"No…that was later…after Deeks' first partner was killed during a riot," Eric said. "Listen…I really shouldn't be telling you any of this. Hetty might kill me or make my life very uncomfortable, which she can do really, really well. Trust me."

"Okay Eric. Just send me his address. I need to talk to him," she said. "Deeks might have told him something that will help us find him."

"Of course…already on your phone," he replied.

"Send it to Callen too."

"Will do," Eric said softly. "And Kens? Rafferty's a good guy."

"Yeah, I could tell," she replied. "Find anything on the security cameras yet?"

"Still looking…wait. Got 'im," Eric said. "Kens? Rafferty's with him."

Thanks, Eric," she said as she cut him off and called Callen.

"Callen? He left with his old LAPD partner, Mick Rafferty," she said as she headed for the elevators. "Eric sent his address. Maybe Deeks went home with him."

"We'll meet you there," Callen said in a rush.

Weekend traffic was light at this hour, and she roared down the freeway trying to figure out why Deeks had left the hospital without telling her. She was pissed, but more worried that she had missed something. He'd told her he didn't want to talk about what had happened and she had let it go. Now, she knew she'd been wrong to let him push her away. Why he had turned to an outsider, she wasn't sure. They must have been close once, but he had never even mentioned the man until the day they shopped for her engagement ring. Deeks must feel safe with him, or he would never have left the hospital with him, and that eased her concern somewhat. What didn't ease was the painful disappointment that he had called his old partner instead of her. Why? The question nagged at her. Did he distrust her? Was he having second thoughts? All of her insecurities rose to the forefront of her mind, and she couldn't decide whether to be angry or just saddened by his lack of trust.

The neighborhood she entered was an old one, with lots of large trees and small, average looking houses on deep lots. She drove up to the address and saw Callen was already there, standing beside his car talking to Joe and Elan. Sam pulled up a minute later.

"What do we know about this guy?" Joe asked as she approached.

"He was Deeks' second partner when he was a rookie patrolman," she said. "Eric wouldn't tell me much else except that his first partner was killed during a riot and that Hetty had had Eric delve into his background."

"When was this?" Callen asked.

"It sounded like it was during that riot when his first partner was killed," she replied. "Long before any of us got to NCIS."

"She's been tracking him that long?" Sam said.

"It's Hetty. She's been tracking all of us for a long time," Callen said. "Kens, you said Eric wouldn't tell you more, not couldn't. Why wouldn't he tell you everything he had?"

"He was scared Hetty would find out," she replied, looking toward the house as a curtain was pulled back and then dropped.

They all turned in unison when the front door opened and a woman in jeans and a blue LAPD sweatshirt came out, a little girl holding her hand. Her shiny black hair fell straight to her shoulders and she tucked a stray strand back behind her ear as she stepped down onto the pathway.

"Mick told me to expect someone to come with questions about Marty, just not this many of you," she said warmly. "Better come in. Coffee's hot and I can make you all breakfast if you're hungry."

Sam shrugged and started across the lawn, and the others followed, Kensi lingering only momentarily to assess the woman. When she got close to the front steps, the little girl let go of her mother's hand and came boldly up to her and asked her name.

"I'm Kensi," she said as the girl took her hand. "What's yours?"

"Bria. Do you know my daddy?"

"No, but a friend of mind does," Kensi said as she entered the warm front room of the house.

"Come on in the kitchen," the woman said quietly. "I'm Isabel. Mick Rafferty is my husband, which of course you already know. Bria is our daughter. Our son Andrew is already up and at the gym."

Isabel went about calmly getting everyone coffee, lining the cups up on the counter by a pretty little sugar and creamer, but personally handing a steaming mug to Kensi with a appraising smile.

"Mick told me you and Marty are engaged. He also said you were beautiful," she said kindly, but with a critical look in her eye. "But, the important thing is that you love him. Do you?"

"Yes…I do," she replied, surprised by the intensity in the woman's voice.

"He deserves to be loved," she said, her eyes suddenly glistening with tears. "He's such a good man, but when he was part of our lives, he didn't let people get too close. By the looks on your faces, I have a feeling that might have changed."

"You read people pretty well, ma'am," Sam said.

"My dad was a cop and I'm married to one. None of you share easily so I've had a lot of practice picking up on the signs you can't hide," she said with a small soft laugh. "Now why don't you introduce yourselves and tell me how you know Marty."

"Sounds like you care about him," Callen said.

"I named my son after him," she replied evenly.

"Okay. As much as I appreciate the sentiment and the coffee, we'd really like to know where he is. He left the hospital with your husband and we need to make sure he's safe."

"Mick won't let anything happen to him," she said quietly.

"Then why did he let him leave the hospital against doctor's orders?" Joe asked, his irritation not lost on the woman.

"Joe, ease up," Elan said as he stepped between them. "Isabel, I apologize for my cousin. He usually has actual manners. My name is Elan Hand. My cousin is Joe Atwood. The hard ass is G Callen, an agent with NCIS, and Sam here is his partner. Kensi is a federal agent and Deeks' partner at NCIS. You already know she's his fiancé, and as for the rest of us…Deeks is our brother."

"My father loves him like a son," Joe said quietly. "I can't tell him Marty's missing again."

"He finally found a family," she said, her eyes bright with tears as she smiled at them. "I'm so happy for him."

"Do you know where he is?" Kensi asked, almost pleading with the woman.

"Mick sent me a text a little while ago," she said. "He asked me to tell whoever came, to give him some time. He's dealt with Marty in difficult situations before."

"So have we," Callen said, looking intense and frustrated.

"I'm sure you have…and I can see you care about him," Isabel said gently, reaching over to touch Callen's arm. "But Marty asked Mick to go with him for a reason. Don't you think you should honor that?"

"Your husband doesn't know what Deeks has been through in the last few months. Hell…in the last few days. I do," Callen said, refusing to let it go.

"Maybe that's why he chose to talk to Mick," she said softly, and Kensi felt the air go out of the room. "No preconceptions. No baggage."

All of them seem to deflate as her comment sunk in. None of them wanted to believe it, especially Kensi, but there was some truth in what she said.

"Mick loves Marty too, but they've had their differences," Isabel said, quietly. "When Marty was fast tracked to detective, they fought like hell over his decision to eventually concentrate on undercover work. Mick was afraid for him. He'd seen what his first undercover assignment had done to him, and he didn't want him to suffer like that again."

"Deeks disagreed," Callen said, with a softening smirk.

"And he didn't understand why Mick wouldn't support him," she said. "They were partners, and both stubborn beyond belief. It eventually ruined their friendship, and that was such a loss for both of them. And for me."

"You two were close?" Kensi asked.

"Marty is very empathetic," she replied. "We had some amazing talks. He was very understanding during a difficult time in my life. And he could make me laugh. I've missed him. And so has Mick. He thought this might be his chance to repair their friendship. Please. Give them both that chance."

"Were they coming back here?" Joe asked.

"Mick will text me when they're on their way," she said.

"Okay," Callen said and took a long sip of his cooling coffee.

…

…

They sat side by side in the sand halfway between the wave line and the parking lot. Deeks wrapped his arms around his knees, hoping to ward off the chill he was feeling. A thin layer of mist hovered over the waves as the sky slowly lightened to a dull gray, the whole scene a somber monotone punctuated by the mewling sound of low-flying gulls. He watched a couple of surfers catch a decent wave, their whoops revealing they were amateurs, but enthusiastic ones to be out this early. Mick remained a solid presence next to him, not saying much, showing patience he didn't remember him having.

"You still drink that god awful black beer?" Deeks asked.

"It's Guinness, ya wuss," Mick said. "It's the only decent beer ta drink."

"Yeah, if you like drinking wheat," Deeks teased, knowing it would get a rise out of him.

"Are ya being thick on purpose, lad?"

"A little. Annoying you was always so much fun," Deeks said, grinning at him like he always had.

"Ya did have a way of doin' that," Mick replied, with a low laugh. "Heard ya had some friends lookin' out for ya the other day. My officer said they were damn protective."

"A couple are part of the team I work with and the other two are from the same family I came to know," Deeks said.

"And you're close, are ya?"

"They're my brothers, Raffy."

"Then why didn't ya want 'em here, lad?" Rafferty asked. "You're not still tryin' ta go it alone are ya? Thought ya woulda learned better by now."

"You're here aren't you?"

"What don't ya want 'em ta know, Marty?"

"I'm not really sure," he admitted. "They want to protect me. I understand that…but they can't protect me from myself."

"What part of yourself are ya tryin' ta protect this time?" Mick asked.

"The scared shitless part."

"And ya don't think they've seen that before?"

"They probably have…more than I want to know," he said. "But this time is different."

"You're afraid ta go in the water," Mick said softly. "After what happened to ya, don't ya think they'll understand that?"

He tried to imagine what each one of them would say if he told them. Would they make light of it? Would they laugh at him? Disregard his feelings? Pity him? Would Sam go all Navy SEAL on him and force him into the water. He really had no idea, but he knew he didn't want Kensi to know.

"Kensi wants to get married on the beach," he said softly. "But when I look at those incoming waves…"

"Ya panic all over again," Mick said.

"Yeah."

Rafferty was one of the toughest men he'd ever known and he was suddenly embarrassed by what he'd just admitted. He got up quickly and turned back toward the parking lot, silently berating himself for asking the man to bring him here. The last thing he wanted to do was lose his respect, having hoped to regain his friendship after all the lost years.

"Deeks."

Raffy had rarely called him by his last name when they were partners, so the authoritative power in his voice and the use of his last name stopped him. When he came up behind him, Deeks waited for the dismissal he was sure must be coming. Instead he felt the cool hand of his old partner gently squeeze the back of his neck.

"I remember ya telling me something your first partner Vernon James taught ya," Rafferty said calmly. "You can tell your partner anything…and it won't change a thing or how ya feel about 'im. It's true, Marty. Ya know it is. So, don't walk away from me and don't walk away from the people who care about ya. We don't deserve it."

He hadn't thought of Vernon in a long time, but Raffy's comment awakened lost memories. Some good and one incredibly painful, even after all these years.

"You would have liked him," Deeks said softly.

"Call your brothers, lad," Mick said firmly. "Trust 'em. And trust your future wife. If ya don't share the painful times with her, your marriage won't amount ta much and you'll miss out on what love is all about. I gotta feelin' she's pretty damn tough, just like my Isabel."

"You're right. She is. They all are."

"Let me text Izzy," Mick said. "I wouldn't be surprised ta find Kensi at our house. Women don't like ta be left outa things, lad. My nosy sisters taught me that long before I met Isabel."

"If Kens is there…so are the rest of them."

While Mick was on the phone, he walked slowly back toward the water. He could now see a turbulent collection of clouds sitting on the horizon, and the sky was overcast and felt heavy, as if pressing down on him. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his gray hoodie and pulled it close around himself. Cold gusts of wind whipped at the crests of the waves, their edges foaming white before being blown into wisps as they broke. The color of the water was darker now, ominous looking and he realized he wasn't looking at it with the eyes of a surfer like he usually did. It had become a challenge to overcome, an adversary he needed to defeat. He found no solace waiting, no escape from the terror that haunted him. His refuge had become part of his nightmare and it made him infinitely sad.

He didn't say much as they waited, just listened as Mick told stories about his raucous family. The little girl who used to tie colored ribbons in his hair was headed to UCLA to study theatre. His sister Moira was a grandmother, and he had to promise not to tease her about it when he saw her again. Mick's low voice lulled him and drew him back to a time when he first saw what a real family looked like. That period in his life had ended on a sour note, with Mick angry and him constantly on the defensive.

"You've changed, Raff," he said softly.

"Kids will do that to ya," he said with a soft smile. "I had a real temper back then."

"Yeah, I remember," Deeks replied.

"Andy could be a stubborn little guy," he said wistfully. "And it would piss me off when he didn't do what I told 'im to. He reminded me a lot of you."

"Shoulda named him after somebody else," Deeks said, huffing out a laugh.

"Ya did give me someone ta practice on. Ya were nothin' more than a big kid yourself," Mick sniped. "But, no matter how mad I got at that little guy, I always remembered what ya told me before ya left for that undercover assignment. I never hit my boy, Marty. Never."

Deeks felt tears prick his eyes as he looked over at the big man, who was wiping at a few of his own.

"That's good to hear, Raff."

The sound of car doors slamming and the sound of his name being called brought him back to the reason he was sitting in the cold sand. He rose reluctantly, and Rafferty threw an arm across his shoulder and turned him around to face the people he had so desperately tried to ditch.

"How many members in this makeshift family of yours, lad?"

"Seriously? Everybody came? Sonofabitch!"

He'd expected Kensi, and Callen and possibly Joe, but not every single one of them.

"Hey," he said as Kensi walked up and wrapped him in a hug.

"Don't ever do that to me again," she whispered, and he nodded and tightened his hold on her.

"Ya better introduce me as a friend, Marty," Rafferty said, causing him to step back from Kensi. "The lot of 'em are lookin' at me like I'm a suspect needin' his ass kicked."

"It's not your ass we want to kick," Joe said, his eyes stormy and dark as he grabbed Deeks hoodie in both hands and shoved him. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Rafferty quickly stepped between them, his warning plain as he pressed his hand against Joe's chest. "No need to get rough with the lad. Ya wouldn't be here if he didn't want ya ta be."

"You scared them, son." George said as Elan pulled Joe away.

"I didn't mean to," Deeks replied. "I just needed to deal with some things on my own."

"Don't think this bunch is gonna let ya do that, Marty," Mick said.

"You want us to leave, Deeks?" Callen asked, standing off by himself.

"Not sure what I want," he replied.

"Introductions might be a good place ta start," Mick said, giving him time to sort his thoughts. "I'm Sergeant Mick Rafferty, LAPD. Marty was my partner when he was a rookie cop."

"I'm George Atwood. Marty's my son," he said, stepping up to shake Mick's hand. "This is my cousin Jim Littleshield. We run a horse ranch up in Wyoming. This is Elan Hand, his nephew, and this is Elan's son, Soldier. The hothead is my boy, Joe."

"I'm Sam Hanna and this is my partner, Callen. Kensi said she met you last night at the hospital."

They all stood awkwardly, none of them sure what to say or what to do next, and Deeks looked away from the questions in everyone's eyes.

"You okay, Uncle Deeks?" Soldier said, stepping past them all and moving up to stand in front of him.

"Tough question, kid," Deeks said, nervous for some reason he couldn't even name.

"Why were you in the hospital again? Papa wouldn't tell me," Soldier said. "What did they do to you? And why are we at the beach?"

"Soldier…" Elan reached out to pull him away, but Deeks stopped him, smiling at the rush of questions.

"It's okay, Elan. It's the question you all want answered, isn't it?" Deeks said, looking to Rafferty for support.

"Just tell 'em, lad," Mick said. "Keepin' it to yourself ain't gettin' ya anywhere."

"Not sure how to do that exactly," he said, turning to look out at the ocean.

He could feel them moving in closer, surrounding him, and when Kensi took his hand his chest tightened. They had all been there for him at one time or another, and he wondered why he found it so hard to tell them the simple truth.

"It doesn't matter what it is, son," George said as he slid his big hand over his shoulder. "We're your family. We'll help you get through it just like we always have."

"Yeah, brother. You'll still be the same dumbass after you tell us, as you are right now," Joe said.

Deeks laughed, his muscles relaxing as Callen stepped in front of him and pulled him into a hug. He could feel the strength of their support as each one reached out to touch him. It was like being in a cocoon. He felt protected and he felt loved.

"I don't think I can get married on the beach, Kens," he said softly as he turned and took her hands in his. "I'm sorry. But the ocean scares me now."

"God, Deeks. I should have known," she said, her eyes wide and full of tears as she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him.

"How do you know until you go out there?" Soldier blurted out. "You were afraid of the dark once. Remember when we were locked in the shit hole together? It was black down there and cold. But we talked and that made it a lot less scary."

"Yeah, it did…but…"

"You promised to teach me to surf, Uncle Deeks," Soldier rushed out. "Uncle Joe sucks at it, and everyone says you're the best. I can talk to you all the time we're out there, and then it won't be so scary."

"I'm a good surfer," Joe insisted.

"I've seen you on a board, Cuz," Elan said. "He's right."

"I surf a little," Callen said. "And Sam was a Navy SEAL. He probably won't suck too badly at it. We could be your wingmen."

"We're a team, Deeks. We'll have your back out there," Sam said.

"You love the ocean, baby," Kensi said. "And I love you. We're gonna fight this together."

"Okay, okay…" Deeks finally said, warmed by the outpouring of support. "Just not today. The waves are crumbly. And not here. Maybe tomorrow. Someplace awesome to help me get my nerve up."

"Don't worry, dumbass," Joe said. "In the ocean, no one will know if you pee your pants."

"Marty? I think I'm starting ta like your family."

"Yeah, Raffy. Me too."

…

…


	19. Chapter 19

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 19_

…

Warm memories flooded his mind as he stood in the middle of Isabel's living room. She had greeted him with a loving hug and all those years apart just disappeared. She had taken his hand and introduced him to his namesake Andrew Martin, who had been a little boy the last time he'd seen him. Now he was tall and slender and looked nothing like either one of his parents, but his close cropped light brown hair was a sign of Mick's influence and his gentle nature could only have come from Isabel. Soldier had boldly interrupted their conversation, introducing himself and asking questions that seemed to amuse the young man. They wandered off together and Isabel went back to the kitchen, leaving him the only one alone.

When Mick's sisters had shown up as a noisy group, they'd greeted him as if no time had past, and then had swooped in around Kensi and dragged her away to question her as only they could. Moira told him that she'd called Erin with the news that he was here, and said she'd "spilled the beans" as she put it, about his engagement and that his fiancé was here as well. He knew there was no way Erin would miss the chance to meet and interrogate Kensi, and he found he was looking forward to that confrontation, even though with some trepidation.

He watched Mick as he stood in the dining room with George and Uncle Jim, his eyes wide with interest as they told stories about him, laughing and shaking his head when he caught his eye. On the way over, he'd asked about George and so he'd told him a little about how they'd first met and why George now called him his son. It had silenced him for a while, but then he had smiled softly and called him a lucky bastard, but he could see that their relationship had touched him. Raffy had never been close to his own father, so he understood why he had gravitated toward George and Uncle Jim. Those two old horse wranglers would recognize his need without a word from him.

When he turned to look into the kitchen he saw Isabel surrounded by Callen, Joe and Elan. They would be seeking old stories about him and he moved quickly to cut off their questioning.

"She's an old friend guys, not a suspect," Deeks said as he came up and wrapped an arm around Isabel.

"We just want to know what kind of trouble you got yourself into as a rookie cop," Joe said. "You don't talk about it much."

"And I thought the Rafferty women were nosy," Isabel said with a laugh. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised. Men in law enforcement can't seem to help themselves."

"I raise horses and a son," Elan said. "No badge on me."

"He's a charming young man, Elan," Isabel said. "You've done a good job."

"I hope you told them how charming I was back then and how all Mick's sisters fell in love with me at first sight," Deeks said with a cocky grin.

"Actually I was telling them how you saved my life," Isabel said quietly. "Right here in this kitchen."

"Don't…" Deeks said, the dark reminder knocking the air out of him.

"I'm sorry, Marty," she said softly. "I should have asked you first. I know how hard that time was for you."

"What I did brought that piece of filth here," he said, choking on the memories. "He would have killed you. Erin and Granny, too."

"And you stopped him from doing that," she said gently.

"And you stopped him from killing me," Deeks replied.

"Really? How'd she do that?" Joe asked.

"She swings a mean frying pan," Deeks said, suddenly proud of her. "And Erin clocked the guy with a marble rolling pin while I was on my back trying not to get shot."

"Who was this guy?" Elan asked.

"Ruben Borrega. He was the cousin of a drug lord manufacturing killer ecstasy pills, among other things," Deeks said. "It was my first undercover assignment."

"What was his name?" Callen asked, his eyes full of curious intensity.

"Raul Cortez."

"It was you," he said, his eyes wide as he pointed at him. "Hetty never told me."

"Told you what?" Joe asked.

"I worked that case for NCIS," Callen said. "Hetty wouldn't tell me the name of the cop LAPD had undercover. I thought they were crazy to leave a rookie inside that organization."

"You were probably right," Deeks said.

"No Deeks, I wasn't," Callen said firmly. "Bates let me read a redacted report. What you did was better than good Deeks, especially with no training and after what Cortez did to you. It's amazing you weren't killed."

"Came close. Real close," Deeks said, and turned to walk away. "Others weren't so lucky."

"I didn't mean to bring up those horrible memories, Marty," Isabel said as she took his arm. "I'm sorry. It wasn't the time."

He wanted to leave, but Callen stopped him. "Bates told me what happened to the woman."

"Her name was Krista. Now leave it alone," he said, pulling free.

"One last thing," Callen said, taking his arm once again. "Arkady made you back then. Called you surfer boy. So I know he had to recognize you when you two met at NCIS, but he didn't say a thing. Did you remember him?"

"Yeah, but I thought it best to let it lie," Deeks said. "I don't think either one of us wanted to get into what happened with Cortez."

"Still…he owes you. You warned him Cortez was sending someone to kill him, so whenever you want to collect, let me know," Callen said. "I'd like to see the look on his face."

"Solano. The assassin's name was Solano," he said gruffly. "And while I was warning Bates about the hit on Arkady, Solano killed Krista. So I don't want anything to do with collecting some stupid debt from your Russian friend. He wasn't worth her life."

His mood turned dark as he hurried from the kitchen, avoiding everyone's stares as he slammed out the backdoor and into the yard. The heavy sky fit his roiling emotions and he sought out the old picnic table where he'd sat the night he'd brought down Cortez and Solano. There was too much pain, too many scorching memories for him to process, all of them piling on, the years collapsing into one long undercover nightmare. He had pushed all the memories deep down into the shadows of his mind, but now it was as if all of it had just happened. Being encased in plastic by an unstable sociopath, fighting a monster in the swamps of Louisiana, the waterboarding, the overwhelming fear of drowning both physically and mentally, all of it was roaring through him and locking down his mind. He found he was panting, trying to simply breathe, hot tears he couldn't control streaming from his eyes.

He flinched when her hands came to rest lightly on his shoulders, but she didn't seem to notice. When her arms slid down across his chest, he sighed at the comfort they brought. She pulled him back against her warm body, bending over him, murmuring her love through the breath that warmed his cheek, easing the tightness of his heart.

"I'm here," Kensi whispered. "You're not alone."

"I'm a mess right now," he choked out.

"I know," she replied, tightening her hold on him. "Let me help, okay?"

"How?"

"By sharing your pain," she said softly. "Don't hold it all inside. Tell me whatever you want about what you're feeling, or just hold onto me until you can breathe again."

"I never told you about…Krista," he said, stumbling over her name. "I should have been there to save her…I still feel guilty that I couldn't."

"I heard what you told Callen," she said as she sat down beside him, her hand lightly squeezing his arm. "You couldn't have known what was going to happen. You know that."

"Do I Kens?" he asked. "Maybe Callen was right. Maybe I shouldn't have been the undercover. Maybe if someone with more experience had been there, Krista might still be alive."

"You really cared about her," Kensi said.

"I didn't love her Kens," he said, looking at her so she could see the truth in his eyes. "We were forced together by a psycho, both of us living a lie so we could stay alive. Somehow, she knew I wasn't like them."

"She was smart then," she said lightly.

"And beautiful," he replied, smiling for the first time.

"Sexy?"

"Oh, yeah," he said without thinking.

"I'm going let that one go," she said, with a small laugh.

"You should," he replied. "She said I was a good man, Kens. She was dying, and she said that to me."

"I think I would have liked her," Kensi said softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

They held each other, and he slowly came back to himself, letting the past slip away as he clung to his future. He realized he had enough battles to fight without picking up an old one, and he had someone beside him to help him get through them.

Soft sprinkles of rain broke them from their reverie, and they smiled at each other as they rose to go back inside. Everyone studiously tried not to look at him, except for one.

"Hey Erin," Deeks felt a rush of familiar warmth and he couldn't keep from smiling.

"I hear someone is willing to overlook your obvious faults and agree to marry you," she said, boldly looking over Kensi. "She must be completely insane."

"Probably. Crazy beautiful too," he said. "Erin, meet Kensi Blye."

"Did he tell you about me?" Erin asked.

"Nope. Not a thing," Kensi replied with a brilliant smile.

"Well, that's disappointing," Erin said, giving Deeks an odd look. "Compartmentalizing your love life, Marty?"

"Only you would put it that way," he replied, feeling a little angry at her tactic.

"What the hell are ya doing, Erin?" Mick asked, looking pissed.

"It's okay, Raffy," Deeks said. "Kensi and I can handle this."

Isabel quickly ushered all the Raffertys away, and he shot a look at George that had him doing the same with his family.

"Does she know you keep secrets?" She asked, her eyes softening as she spoke.

"He doesn't have to keep secrets from me," Kensi said sharply.

"Do you keep secrets from him?" She asked.

"Erin…stop it," Deeks said. "Why are you being so damn nasty?"

"Misery loves company, I guess, to use a well worn cliché," she replied, her eyes suddenly shimmering with tears.

"As I remember, you never liked clichés," he said.

"Yeah, too bad I became one," she replied sadly. "A woman really good at her job, but unbelievably lousy at home life."

"Kyle turn out to be an asshole?" He asked.

"The bastard liked to play the field," she replied. "Another cliché, but appropriate."

"I hope you kicked his ass," Kensi said.

"Just verbally," she said with a small laugh. "You look like you could physically do that."

"Damn straight. I'm a federal agent," Kensi said.

"She kicks ass regularly," Deeks said, grinning at her.

"Is that why you look a little battered around the edges?" Erin said. "You piss her off?"

Kensi moved quickly into Erin's personal space, "He was kidnapped, beaten and waterboarded. Now back off or you'll find out just how good I am at kicking ass."

"God, Deeks. No one told me," Erin said, a stricken look on her face softening Kensi's stance. "Are you okay?"

"Physically…yeah," he replied hesitantly.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know why I said those things," she said, reaching over to hug him gently before turning to face Kensi. "Guess I'm just jealous…can you tell?"

"It was pretty obvious from the moment you saw him," Kensi replied.

"Never should have let him go," she replied. "Never did have good judgment when it came to men."

"Me either till I met Deeks," Kensi said.

"Seems we have that in common at least," Erin said. "I could use a drink. How about you?"

"A beer would taste pretty good right now," Kensi said, shooting a quick grin at Deeks.

"Ever had Guinness?" Erin asked as she took Kensi's arm and headed for the kitchen.

"Don't do it Ken's," Deeks called out after them. "That stuff's lethal."

He was completely ignored by the two, and soon the kitchen was crowded with all the women, laughing and whispering, shooting occasional glances his way before bursting into laughter.

"Come on, lad. Ya couldn't stop 'em tellin' stories about ya even if ya pulled a gun and blew a hole in the ceiling," Rafferty said as he threw an arm around his shoulder. "The guys are hold up in the family room."

"Please tell me they aren't telling stories about me too," Deeks groaned.

"Course not, lad. They're waitin' for us," Mick laughed. "I'm still tryin' ta picture you on a horse. A few stories might help."

…

…

As much as he had enjoyed spending time with the Raffertys and introducing them to his family, the day hadn't ended well. Mick's sister Fiona, a nurse, had eyed him critically during the early dinner and had insisted on checking his temperature even before he had a chance to take a bite. She announced to everyone that his fever had spiked and that ruined the entire evening, as he was bundled up and unceremoniously hurried out to the car and driven back to the hospital. He had protested that they were all overreacting, but no one listened. Callen and Joe drove them while Kensi sat in the back with him staring at him as if he were going to explode at any second. Once at the hospital, the doctor who had treated him when he'd first been admitted, told him he had developed pneumonia and checked him in, which was exactly what he didn't want, not that anyone listened…again. He tried to maintain his pissed off attitude, but he was too tired and really wasn't feeling all that well and eventually he gave up his protests and fell asleep.

He spent two days in the hospital until the doctor told him he could go home if he promised to keep taking his antibiotics. That was an easy promise to make and he was soon home, but discovered he was never left alone for long. Someone was always watching over him, or asking him if he wanted anything, especially Kensi. The only good thing that came of it was Isabel and the Rafferty sisters had filled the fridge with what looked like enough food for an army. Moira had left a couple of desserts that Kensi plowed through his first night home, but he kept Isabel's cookies for himself, hiding them as best he could from his voracious fiancé.

By the end of the week he felt his energy returning and Callen came over in the mornings for the next few days to join him on runs as he tried to get back into shape. He never brought up Arkady or Cortez again and he was grateful for that, but he could tell something was on his mind.

"There aren't anymore of Rasmussen's bad guys still running around are there?" He asked as slumped down on the porch steps after their run, trying to catch his breath.

"No. We got them all," he replied.

"Then what's on your mind?"

"Instead of a run tomorrow morning…how about we give surfing a try," he said softly. "Soldier's been pestering Elan about it, and Andy Rafferty offered him the use of one of his boards."

Deeks felt a sudden jolt of fear, his throat closing as he fought against the harsh memories of the suffocating wet cloth pulled tight across his face, and choking on the unending stream of water until he blacked out. Over and over and over. He stood up, his heart pounding as Callen gripped his shoulder, keeping him from bolting.

"I know what you're feeling. I've been there," he said quietly, stunning him with the admission. "You can get past it. Sam and I will be right beside you. We can help you out past the break. You don't even have to pick up a wave. You can just sit on your board and yell insults at Joe as he tries to look like he knows what he's doing."

"What if I lose it out there," he asked anxiously. "What if I can't make it past the first wave without panicking?"

"Then we'll keep going back until you can, but you won't know that till you try, brother," Callen said. "You love the ocean. Don't let that bastard Pohl take that away from you."

He remained silent, trying to tell his mind he could do this, but afraid he would fail in front of his family.

"No one's going to laugh at you, Deeks," Callen said. "Especially not me."

"Someone laughing at me is the least of my worries," he said.

"Then trust us," Callen said. "And don't doubt yourself. You've overcome worse trauma."

There was no denying that, and he began to steel himself to at least try. "Okay."

…

…

The early morning sky was free of clouds, the air sharp and cold as he pulled up the zipper on his wet suit. It felt comforting, almost as if he was wearing armor, but it was his mind that needed to protect itself. Sam had ruffled his hair, his face full of confidence, nodding his encouragement as he walked past him toward the crisp snapping waves. Callen waxed his board in silence, while Elan spoke softly to Soldier about his refusal to wear a wetsuit despite everyone warning him how cold the Pacific was. Andy looked uncertain about that, but eventually simply shrugged his shoulders and motioned for Soldier to follow him down to the wave line.

Kensi came to stand beside him as he watched the surfers already in the water, checking out the wave sets and trying to keep his mind blank. No one pushed him forward; they were just there, all around him.

"Are you okay?" She asked, threading her fingers through his.

"Not sure," he said honestly.

"I'm here for you one way or the other, baby," she said, running her hand up his cheek and into his hair.

She kissed him lightly and he leaned his forehead against hers, and then blew out his breath a couple of times as he looked out at the water.

"There's no chop this morning and the offshore wind will keep the face of the waves smooth. It's good surf for Soldier to learn on."

"If you're not ready for this, I can teach him a few things and Callen is pretty good," she said. "Mick said Andy is a natural, so he has plenty of teachers."

"Do I look that scared?" He asked.

"No. That's not what I meant," she hurriedly said. "I just don't want you to get out there and…"

"What? Pee in my wetsuit?"

She laughed and her smile warmed him. She was giving him an out, but he knew he couldn't take it, because if he did he might never overcome the fear Pohl had terrorized him with.

He bent down to attach his leash and stood up, staring out to sea as he drew in a deep, steadying breath of salty air. "Paddle out with me?"

"We all will, brother," Joe said as he came up beside him. "All except for Elan. Probably doesn't want to get his hair wet."

"Shut up, Cuz," Elan said, shoving him before looking intently at Deeks. "I'll be there if you need me."

"I know."

Callen picked up his board and they all walked down to the wave line together. He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the smell of the ocean and the cries of the gulls, so familiar and once so comforting. He couldn't lose this, not at the hands of a man like Pohl. He'd bested bastards like him before. Now all he had to do was overcome the residue of fear he'd left behind.

"Let's do this," he said softly and walked into the foamy remains of a retreating wave.

The cold water felt good on his bare feet as he waded in. He saw Sam waiting out beyond the break, and his solid form gave him confidence, as did the others as they pushed out toward the incoming waves. He watched Callen duck dive under the first wave and then Joe. Andy was instructing Soldier and they both did it easily, Soldier laughing as he whipped the water out of his long, wet hair on the other side. Deeks could feel his heart racing as he jumped onto the deck of his board, stretching out as he'd done for most of his life, hesitating only briefly before paddling through the rushing surf with long, practiced strokes. Kensi was right beside him, smiling as he approached the incoming wave. He pushed the nose of his board down and inhaled deeply before the wave crashed over him, and then he was submerged, icy water taking his breath as it filled his nose, making his heart pound in his ears. He was under for only a few seconds, but he felt himself begin to panic and he fought toward the surface, breaking on top and gasping for air. He laid his cheek against the deck of the board, and tightened his grip on the rails, knowing there was another wave coming. He sensed Callen's presence before he saw him, his words of encouragement breaking through the white noise roaring in his ears. Then he felt Kensi's hand on his back and he opened his eyes.

"I'll take point," she shouted and headed for the second wave as if going into a firefight.

This was a battle and she was his partner, so he took a breath and followed her, duck diving under the wave and then the next one until he was well past the break. He felt weak, exhausted by how much effort it had just taken to do the simplest of moves, but he sat up and turned his board to face the beach as Sam paddled over next to Kensi and Callen came up beside him.

"Joe just wiped out," Sam shouted, pointing at his brother as he flew off his board, only to come up laughing.

"You guys should catch a couple of waves," Deeks insisted. "I'm just going to sit out here and soak up the vibes."

"Just remember all the good times, Deeks," Sam said.

"You sure you're all right?" Callen asked.

"I'm good, brother," he replied with a grin. "Didn't even wet my pants."

Callen slapped him on the shoulder and then paddled off to catch a passing wave, yelling for Kensi to join him. Sam took up position for a following wave and then he was alone on the water, floating easily as he'd always done. The undulating movement of the sea rocked him gently as waves passed beneath him and he slowly began to relax. The others came up beside him to check on him occasionally, but he shooed them off, wanting the time alone to reconcile his emotions. The waves were breaking to his left and he saw Soldier some distance away waiting for one. The boy was so determined, wiping out on most of the waves he'd ridden so far. Deeks decided he should give him a few pointers and turned his board in his direction, but felt a powerful surge beneath him. It was a huge wave, the biggest of the day, and he quickly looked for Soldier and saw him push off to catch it.

"No!" He shouted as loud as he could, but the kid didn't hear him. "Dammit."

He flattened himself on his board and paddled toward him as fast as he could, afraid he might actually manage to catch a wave he was no match for. As soon as Soldier stood up on his board Deeks knew he was in trouble, coming in at the wrong angle at the crest of the wave. Soldier was knocked up in the air, his board slamming back into him just as he hit the water and was tumbled under. Deeks screamed his name and dropped over the edge of the monster wave, working it expertly as he frantically searching for the boy. When he saw Soldier's board floating toward the beach, he realized his leash had broken, and quickly undid his own and dove into the water. He saw him almost immediately, his body limp as the wave tumbled him toward the bottom. Deeks reached out and grabbed his long hair, and kicked for the surface. When he came up, Elan was there, taking his son from his arms and carrying him out of the frothing surf. He rushed after him, thankful when he saw Sam racing toward them. Elan fell to his knees, laying his unconscious son on the sand, and Deeks felt a chill when he saw blood on the boy's face. Elan began giving him mouth to mouth, while Sam quickly covered him in dry towels. When Soldier began to cough, he let himself breathe, sitting back on his heels in the sand as the boy heaved up water.

"He's okay, Elan," Sam said. "His nose is probably broken, but other than that he's fine."

Elan nodded as he pulled the shivering boy into his arms. "You should stick to riding horses, son."

"But it's fun, Papa," Soldier said through chattering teeth. "Can I go again?"

"Not today, kid," Deeks said. "I'll show you some moves next time, after we buy you a wetsuit."

Kensi brought him a blanket, pulling it tightly around him as they all started up the beach toward the parking lot, the two boys chatting about how gnarly his wipeout was, as if it had been no big thing. Deeks stopped and turned back to look at the ocean, his mind clear and focused now that Soldier was okay.

"Marty?"

"Yeah Elan?"

"Thank you," he said, draping an arm over his shoulders.

"He's not afraid out there, Elan," Deeks said.

"Neither are you, Cuz."

…

…


	20. Chapter 20

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 20_

…

"Good morning, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said, with an unreadable look on her face.

"Hetty," he replied nervously. "You wanted to see me?"

"Why else would I have asked you to come in?"

"Point taken," he said with a quick grin. "Want to tell me why or should we engage in more word play?"

"You seem a little touchy this morning," she said. "I have a blend of tea for that."

"Tea is kind of like an app for you, yeah?" Deeks said, deciding to keep things light. "A different one for each mood or to make a person more pliable to suggestion."

"That sounds an awful lot like an accusation, Mr. Deeks," she said, leaning back in her chair and staring at him curiously.

"No, no. It was just an observation…or possibly a fantasy of mine," Deeks hurried to say, giving her his best cocky grin.

"I'm more into mystery than fantasy, Mr. Deeks," she said more kindly.

"Is that what this is about, Hetty? A mystery that needs to be solved?"

"I'd say it's more of a psychological thriller," she replied.

"Like Silence of the Lambs or like The Exorcist?" Deeks asked.

"Both concern their own kind of demons, Mr. Deeks," she said. "And I'm concerned about exorcising yours."

"Now you're just scaring me," he replied. "You don't have a priest hiding in a closet somewhere do you?"

"No, but I do have a psychologist who called to tell me you missed your appointment," she said. "And I need to know why Mr. Deeks. If you don't pass your psych eval, you can't return to the field. Is that what you want?"

"I'm not sure how to answer that right now," he said softly.

"Are you having second thoughts about returning to NCIS?" She asked.

"I'm tired, Hetty," he confessed. "The last four months have been a battle, and I can't seem to find my footing."

"I see," she said, although he wasn't sure she did.

He couldn't think what else to say, or even tell her what he was thinking, because he wasn't sure he could put it into words. He hadn't discussed any of this with Kensi or with Callen or Joe. He thought George might have guessed that he was struggling, but he hadn't pushed him to talk about it. Not yet anyway.

"I think I might have a solution for you," she said calmly, smiling softly at him. "For Kensi as well."

"Okay, but I can't agree to something that affects her without talking to her first," Deeks said, suddenly anxious about what he might have started.

"I think that would be best, Mr. Deeks, but my solution for you will stand either way," she said.

"Understood," he replied.

"I'm giving you a leave of absence. A sabbatical, shall we say," Hetty informed him. "Two months, starting today. At the end of that time come and see me and let me know your decision. And I expect you to have talked with the psychologist before walking in here. Is that clear?"

"Yes. Of course," he replied. "Hetty…I don't know what to say."

"By the end of that time I suspect you will," she said. "Now go. You have a wedding to plan and a honeymoon as well. Please tell Miss Blye I am offering her the same. Think of this as a wedding present."

"Thank you, Hetty."

"I'm going to assume I'm invited to the wedding," she said softly.

"You'll be the guest of honor."

She got up and came around her desk and he leaned over to give her a hug. "Take care of each other, Mr. Deeks."

"We will."

"Good. And promise you'll come to the Christmas party. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"And miss seeing who gets all the presents you re-gift every year?" He said, grinning widely.

"I see some things haven't changed," she said. "You're still a cocky bastard."

"I won't forget this, Hetty," he said softly.

"Some things are best forgotten, or at least dealt with and put behind you," she said. "It's what we must do to survive in our particular line of work. And more than anything, Mr. Deeks, I want you to survive."

"Then we want the same thing."

He walked out feeling lighter than he had in some time, enormously grateful for her generous gift of time. He was suddenly excited to tell Kensi they had the next two months to do whatever they wanted. They hadn't talked about the wedding since they'd gotten caught up in the dregs of his Louisiana assignment, and had never even spoken about a honeymoon. They hadn't really expected to have much more than a weekend for one. Now, his mind was careening through all the possibilities and he found himself laughing.

"Kens?" He said happily into his phone. "We just got our first wedding present and it's awesome."

…

…

They had begged off dinner with the family and he had gone out to grab some take out from their favorite Vietnamese restaurant. Now they were huddled under a blanket together on a chaise lounge on the patio eating deep fried spring rolls while they stared up at the stars. At the moment, he was the only one looking at them. She was snuggled against his chest moaning over the last spring roll and dripping sauce on his sweatshirt.

"Oops. Sorry."

"Getting a little messy there, Miss Piggy?" he said.

"Take it off and I'll wash it in the morning," she replied as she sucked spicy sweet sauce off her fingers.

"It's cold out here," he said. "And you want me to get naked?"

"Anything wrong with that?" She asked as she moved to straddle him.

She didn't let him answer, kissing him softly and leaving the taste of pork on his lips.

"You're yummy," kissing her as he pulled her down on his chest. "Any of that sauce left?"

"Why? What did you have in mind?"

"I might be able to think of a few things," he said with a grin.

"Would I have to be naked for you to explore these options?" She asked.

"Probably," cocking his head as he replied.

"But you said it was cold out here."

"Not for long."

At that she rose up on her knees and pulled her sweater off over her head, tossing it on the other chaise lounge. She wasn't wearing anything under it and he pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and admired the view.

"Show me what you got, baby," she said, her hands on her hips.

He leaned forward and yanked the soiled sweatshirt up and off, dropping it on the ground, watching her eyes as she gently pushed him back down. Gripping the edges of the blanket, he pulled her closer until their bodies met, the sudden warmth electric. Her hands ghosted over his cheeks and up into his hair as her tongue teased his lips, arousing him even more. As she began to move, her mouth closed over his and the outside world ceased to exist. It was just the two of them, alone under the stars, lost in each other.

"I want you," she whispered.

"I'm yours, Sunshine. Forever and always," he said softly, offering small kisses of confirmation.

"Then marry me the first day of the new year," she said.

"You want to get married on New Year's Day?"

"Yes, I do," she whispered. "It'll be the first day of the rest of our lives."

"Is this a ploy so I won't ever forget our anniversary?"

She shook her head and laughed. "Is that a yes?"

"Absolutely. It'll be the best New Year's ever," he replied, kissing her softly. "Now grab that gooey sweet sauce and let's go up to bed and start celebrating in every inappropriate way we can think of."

…

…

Deeks was happy and relaxed, glad it was the weekend so Callen could join the family at Hetty's loaner estate in the hills of Los Feliz. Nell was meeting them at the house, having been recruited by Kensi to organize her and Diane's search for the perfect wedding dress. It was taking on the semblance of a federal case, with secret instructions and conference calls and a computerized checklist he'd only gotten a glance at before Kensi had slammed the top on the laptop down on his fingers. In the last two days she had become a totally different woman, giddy and babbling with excitement, bringing home dozens of bridal magazines, searching the Internet for florists, although he had no idea why you needed flowers on a beach or where you'd put them if you had them. He'd made the mistake of asking her about that, and had paid the price. Apparently for women, having flowers at their wedding is an iron-clad requirement or it wasn't a real wedding, or at least that's what he got out of her rambling explanation.

As they started up the long driveway to the Los Feliz house, Deeks couldn't help himself. "A brick house? In earthquake country? Maybe Hetty's not as smart as we think."

"It probably reminds her of England. She owned a house in Kent for the longest time," Callen said from the back seat. "Stayed there once. It was cozy."

"Well, I think it's lovely," Kensi said as they passed a long, brick staircase that led up to a bright red door.

"Did the house in Kent have armed guards?" Deeks asked as a tactical agent stood in a doorway under the porte cochere and signaled for them to stop.

"Not that I ever saw," Callen replied. "Which doesn't mean they weren't there."

"Doubt if this guy is the only one around," Deeks said as he opened the door and stepped out, mockingly putting his hands up when he recognized the man. "Airball. Buddy. We're not armed this time."

"Agent Deeks. Agent Blye," Kareem Louis said, smiling as his partner joined him.

"Is there trouble?" Callen quickly asked.

"No sir. Hetty's just being cautious," he replied. "She assigned me and Slingshot to monitor the security cameras during the night. We're off duty now, so you're on your own."

"The old Arapaho man is making pancakes and bacon for everyone," David Biggs said as he came up and shook hands. "Damn good cook. But that kid, Soldier? He brought us a piece of cake last night he said he baked himself. It was unbelievable. Where'd he learn to do that?"

"France," Deeks said, laughing at their surprise. "It's a long story."

"Well if there's any left, grab a piece," the agent said. "Wish my wife could bake like that."

"I know the feeling," Deeks said, earning a withering glare from his future bride.

"Go through this door and through the library. Everyone's in the kitchen," Agent Louis said as the two men started down the driveway.

They smelled the bacon before they saw anyone, and Callen called out to let them know they were coming in. Elan had told them that Joe was still a little skittish and had been extra vigilant, carrying a weapon at all times even though the threat was over. They found them in the kitchen at a traditional and very elegant pine table that was laden with platters of bacon, bowls of fresh fruit and half filled pitchers of orange juice. Deeks whistled as he looked around the room and out the French doors at a patio crowned by a huge stone fireplace that looked as if it had just come out of an English castle or a French chateau.

"You should see the formal dining room. It seats twelve," Diane said as she got up to hug Kensi. "This place is amazing. I feel like we're on a country estate in England."

"Or France. This place reminds me of the houses in Normandy," Elan said. "Soldier's getting spoiled by this kitchen. Already asked me if we could get a bigger stove."

"And I told him if he could figure out a way to get it up the mountain, I'd buy him one," George said.

"You forget. That kid loves a challenge," Elan warned.

"Where is he?" Deeks asked.

"Took Chris for a walk around the garden," Joe said. "He saw a baby raccoon early this morning and they went to find it. At least it wasn't a skunk."

"Pancakes?" Jim Littleshield asked as he came over with two plates stacked high.

Kensi immediately grabbed one and sat down, drowned the pancakes in maple syrup and quietly dug in.

"I think the tactical agents wanted to take you and Soldier home with them, Uncle Jim," Deeks said as he sat down and grabbed a couple of slices of bacon from the almost empty platter on the table. "They probably haven't eaten this well since being assigned to protect our asses."

"Why are they still here, son?" George asked.

"Not sure," he replied, looking over at Callen, wondering the same thing.

"I think Hetty just wants you all to feel safe," Callen said.

"I think I'll go check on the boys," Joe said and headed quickly out the door to the patio.

"He can't let it go. Has trouble letting Chris out of his sight," Di said. "And he's scared for me and the baby. Made me go to the pediatrician to make sure everything is okay."

"Is it?" Kensi asked.

"We're both fine," she said as she put her hand down gently on her growing belly.

"Come up with a name yet?" Callen asked, making Deeks smile widely. "What? Little babies are a whole new world for me. A name makes it real."

"They're naming her after Joe," George said.

"You're gonna call your baby girl Dumbass?" Deeks said, unable to stop his response.

"Deeks!" Kensi reprimanded him sharply, but it did get a laugh out of Diane.

"Joe was named after his mother…Josephine…my Josie," George said softly.

"That will be the name on her birth certificate, but we thought we'd call her Joy," Di said.

"That's beautiful, Di," Kensi said. "Listen, if you're not up for shopping with Nell and I today…"

"Are you kidding? I could use a girls only day," she said. "Besides, I've done this all before. Looking at wedding dresses will be fun, and just the break I need."

"Sounds like my cue," Nell said as she walked in from the front door.

"Hey Nellasaurus," Deeks said. "Got a lead on the top secret location where they're holding Kensi's wedding dress?"

"I actually have several possible locations, Agent Deeks," she replied. "And I believe our reconnaissance, and the resolution of this very important mission will take up most of the day."

"Okay…well played," Deeks said. "Strangely weird…but well played."

"You started it," she shot back.

"Don't mind him, Nell. I shut down his attempt to bypass security protocols for my wedding journal and checklist," Kensi said.

"You smashed my fingers," he complained.

"Then stay off my laptop, sneaky boy," she replied as she grabbed her purse and followed Nell and Diane out through the library.

"You have no idea what's going on do you?" Callen asked with smirk that ended in a short giggle.

"And you do? Seriously?" Deeks laughed.

"No clue," Callen admitted. "Think I'll go find Joe, while you help clean up."

The room was suddenly quiet and when he and Uncle Jim finished clearing the table, it was just him and George. Deeks realized how quiet George was being as they went about washing up the remaining dishes. It wasn't like him.

"You okay, George?" He finally asked.

"I'm fine, son," he replied. "Just thinking about Josie. She never got to see Joe get married or meet her grandson, or hold her newborn granddaughter. She always wanted a little girl. Never got to meet you either, or be a part of your wedding. It hurts that she didn't get to do any of those things."

"I'm sorry, George," he said softly.

"Life don't always turn out the way you want it to," he replied. "Grab your happiness and hold on to it with both hands, son. Love every minute of your time with Kensi. Don't let the world get between you."

"I wish we could have known her."

"Josie would have loved you, boy. Kensi too."

He was quiet for a few moments, but then seemed to shake off his sadness. He wrapped his arm around his shoulder and then patted him solidly on the back as he turned to leave.

"George? Would you be my best man?" The words came out in a rush of emotion that surprised him.

He stopped, his eyes watering and his chin quivering as he looked at him. "You don't have to do that, Marty."

"I know. But it'll make me seriously happy if you would," Deeks said.

"Then I'd be honored, son."

Deeks felt his heart surge as George smothered him in a powerful hug just like the first one he'd ever given him. It was if their relationship had come full circle, that this moment was meant to happen, and it made him wildly happy. He had come from a family full of pain and chaos, one ruled by fear and hopelessness, but the closer he had grown to George and his family the more those memories had dimmed. Now, when someone mentioned family it was this one that filled his thoughts.

"The boys are gonna be disappointed," George said, huffing out a laugh as he wiped at his eyes.

"But they ain't gonna be surprised," Jim Littleshield said as he came down the stairs.

"You're right. Callen might have already told them," Deeks said.

"Told us what?" Joe asked as he came in from the patio with Chris clinging to his neck.

"That your father is Deeks' Best Man," Callen said, walking in behind him with Elan and Soldier.

Even with all their lighthearted grumblings, Deeks could see that they probably had suspected it.

"What do the rest of us get to do?" Soldier asked.

"Actually, I was thinking you might like to bake the wedding cake," Deeks said, laughing at the sudden smile on the boy's face.

"Kensi might not want me to," he replied, his smile fading.

"You got any of that cake left you served last night?" Deeks asked.

"One slice. I was saving it for Kensi," Soldier said. "I know how much she likes dessert."

"When she gets back today, give it to her," Deeks said. "That should convince her you can do the job."

"Really, Uncle Deeks?"

"Really."

"What do we do next?" Soldier asked.

"Yeah, brother," Joe said. "Lots of decisions to make. Renting a tux for one. If you're wearing one."

"The wedding's on the beach. He should get married in a wetsuit," Callen suggested.

"With a bow tie to dress it up," Elan laughed.

"This is exactly why I asked George to be my Best Man," Deeks said, shaking his head, but grinning.

"Can he wear white like Kensi?" Soldier asked, making them all smile and shoot off more smart ass comments.

"Hey…I would look awesome in a white tux," Deeks said in his own defense, warming to the idea.

"And don't forget…you have to find someone to marry you," Joe said.

"That's what I'm here for," Jim Littleshield said softly.

"Seriously?" Deeks asked. "You can do that?"

"If you want me to," the old Indian said.

"Hetty pushed through the paperwork," George said. "It would be legal, in case you're worried about that."

"It would mean a lot to both of us, Uncle Jim," Deeks said, walking over to hug the old man in gratitude.

"Saw it in a dream a few days after you left the ranch," Jim said.

"Was he wearing a wetsuit or a white tux?" Callen asked in mock seriousness.

The old Arapaho looked down and when he looked up he had an embarrassed smile on his face.

"He wasn't wearin' nothin'," he said. "'Cept that old straw cowboy hat of his."

…

…


	21. Chapter 21

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 21_

…

She had butterflies. She could feel the flush on her cheeks and the flutter of her heart. She looked down at her engagement ring once again and tried to still her nervousness. Going into a firefight she was always in control, always focused, determined, knowing what she faced and how to deal with it. But shopping for a wedding dress, not so much. She heard herself nervously giggling at whatever Nell or Diane said and she sounded silly even to herself. Being overly excited was a rare experience for her. Even when Deeks had proposed, she hadn't felt this way. That moment had elicited emotions she couldn't even put into words. They went deep, as if some part of the universe had just clicked into its rightful place. Her body had hummed and her heart had felt gigantic, flooding her with a deep sense of joy. Today she felt as if she was going to explode and she giggled once again as Nell yanked the wheel of the car sharply and cut in front of a silver Mercedes to cross three lanes of traffic and exit the Hollywood Freeway. She didn't even bother to stop at the intersection as she careened onto Melrose and slowed to a less heart-stopping speed.

"Your appointment is right at ten," Nell said.

"And which salon is this again?" Kensi asked.

"I sent you the schedule last night," she replied, but must have noticed she wasn't herself and laughed. "You're a total wreck, aren't you?"

"No…maybe. A little…but please don't ask me why because I don't know," Kensi said.

"Today, were just seeing what's out there," Di said from the back seat.

"It's just recon, Kens," Nell added.

"And it's meant to be fun, so quit thinking so much and relax," Di said.

"And no one will be shooting at you, so this should be a piece of cake," Nell said calmly.

"Oh my god…I haven't even thought about the wedding cake," Kensi said, wondering how she had lost her mind.

"Take a deep breath, Kensi," Di said. "We can deal with that tomorrow. Today all you have to think about is your dress."

"Focus on that," Nell said.

"Okay."

She had looked at dresses online and through more than a dozen bridal magazines, and had even torn out a few pictures of the styles she liked, but now she couldn't remember what any of them looked like.

"You'll know it when you see it," Di said softly from behind her and patted her shoulder.

"I forgot my tablet," she said suddenly. "How could I forget that? I had over a hundred dresses saved in Pinterest."

"I should have stolen a bottle of Hetty's scotch," Nell laughed. "Then you wouldn't be so uptight."

"Never a good idea to go shopping for something expensive while you're drunk," Di warned.

"Sounds like you have some experience with that," Nell said.

"I might," Di laughed. "You?"

"College. Lingerie. Enough said."

Kensi listened silently to them sharing stories, blankly staring out the window as they pulled onto Beverly Boulevard. The shops passed in a blur as her mind shifted to the night she was cuddling with Deeks under the stars. She wanted to look beautiful for him on their wedding day. She wanted to make his mouth drop open and see tears in his eyes when she walked up to him on the beach. The dress she would choose wouldn't just be for her alone, but for the both of them. With that in mind, she began to calm down, and her focus returned as Nell pulled up in front of a brick building with a small round turret.

"Welcome to Claire Pettibone's Salon au Château," Nell announced dramatically. "Your wedding gown awaits, Mademoiselle Blye."

"Eric isn't inside in a béret waiting to blow a trumpet is he?" Kensi asked, laughing at the thought.

"Actually, he wanted to come," she said, as they gathered in front of the building. "And he probably would have brought a French horn."

"Soldier wanted to come, too," Diane said. "He's very curious about the whole wedding process."

"Thanks for this you two," Kensi said. "Having you with me makes it so much more fun."

"You do expect us to be honest though, right?" Nell asked as they filed inside.

"Please," Kensi replied, as they were greeted by an elegantly dressed woman with a French accent, which for some reason made her laugh.

Her laughter seemed to irritate the woman, whose features hardened into a look of superiority and distain. She purred out a comment in French, which she obviously assumed they wouldn't understand and turned away, dismissing them with a few condescending words as if they weren't worth her time. Kensi's anger flashed, and in perfect French asked the arrogant woman if she treated all of her appointments this poorly and that perhaps her perfect wedding dress would be found in a shop where the help had better manners.

The woman turned and started to apologize, and Kensi was about to wave her off when another woman hurried over.

"That will be all, Monique. I believe they need help in the back sorting through the new arrivals," she said firmly. "You must be Miss Blye, my ten o'clock. I'm Ellen and please accept my apology. Monique is new. Please don't let her spoil your day. May I offer you all a glass of champagne? We have a wonderful collection of gowns for you to try. I'm certain we can find one that you will simply love."

The woman was an accomplished salesperson with a low, modulated voice and poured her words out slowly, like honey. She ushered them deeper into the salon, offering them seating on chairs covered in blue silk brocade that looked as if they should be in a real French chateau. As Kensi looked around she smiled softly.

"This is like being in a fairytale," she whispered.

"Fell down the rabbit hole, did you Alice?" Nell quipped.

"It is a lovely showroom," Di said. "Nothing like this in Cheyenne."

"Your wedding dress was beautiful," Kensi said.

"Yeah, but I don't think this place offers cowboy boots with the wedding gowns," she whispered back.

That got them all laughing again, which only ended when Ellen returned, leading a young man carrying a silver tray with flutes and a bottle of Dom Perignon. Once they all had full glasses, Nell raised her glass and made a toast.

"To the future Mrs. Martin Deeks."

Kensi paused before taking a sip, the idea of changing her name stopping her cold. She had toyed with the idea of taking his name, but had not thought seriously about it yet. She carried her father's name proudly, and the thought of giving that up troubled her.

"Kens?"

Nell's voice cut through the fog of precious memories and she took a deep breath, finally taking a long drink of the champagne, willing herself to leave that question for another day.

As they drank their champagne, Ellen began to tell her about their collection, questioning her about her wedding and her desires. They had a vineyard collection with each gown named for a type of wine, a California collection Ellen thought would be perfect for a beach wedding, and the Four Seasons line from their couture collection. When Kensi told her they all sounded lovely, Ellen offered to bring out a number of gowns she thought would be perfect from each of their collections.

"Please do," Kensi said, downing the remains of her champagne as soon as the woman turned to leave.

"Too bad Hetty isn't here," Nell said.

"I can dress myself," Kensi snapped, and immediately felt sorry. "It's all happening so fast and there are so many decisions to make."

"You're getting ahead of yourself again," Di said gently. "Just think of this as a regular day of shopping for something to wear on a date…except today all the dresses will be white, have a veil, and cost a fortune."

"Nell…please tell me you checked the price range at this place," Kensi asked in a desperate whisper.

"You didn't tell me your budget," she said with that tiny voice and conspiratorial smile she got when she wanted you to think she made a mistake.

"You didn't even ask, did you?"

"'Fraid not," she replied, not looking remotely guilty.

"Well, this is going to be embarrassing," Kensi said softly.

"That's not going to happen, Miss Blye," Hetty said as she came up behind them. "Each establishment Nell selected has my credit card on file. Your wedding dress is my gift to you."

"I can't let you do that Hetty," Kensi said as her boss stepped in front of her.

"Why not?" Hetty replied. "Would you prefer a crock pot for a gift? If they still make those things."

"No…it's just…it doesn't seem right," Kensi said. "It'll be too expensive."

"You are aware that I make a fairly good salary," she said. "Although my last request for a raise was deferred to the next fiscal year."

"I'm sure you do, but it's the principle of the thing," Kensi acknowledged. "You're my boss."

"I haven't forgotten that, dear," Hetty said.

"Besides, you already gave Deeks and I two months off."

"But that's on the government's dime, Miss Blye. Not mine," Hetty said, laughing at the end as if she'd played a joke on SecNav.

"Hetty…"

"Let me do this for you, Kensi."

Something in her voice touched her. Maybe it was the hint of a plea she hadn't expected to hear or the shadow of old regrets in her eyes, but as those faded, she found her stance softening. Hetty had always looked out for her, advising her when emotional moments hit too close to home, encouraging her about a future beyond the job. She had no family that anyone knew of. She just had her agents, and she watched over them in her own way. Now she sensed this was something Hetty needed, so she smiled softly and nodded her assent.

"Thank you, Hetty."

"It's my pleasure, dear," she replied. "Now where's my glass of champagne?"

For the next two hours she tried on dress after elegant dress until they all began to look the same. Nothing seemed to strike her as being her. She felt as if she were on assignment and dressing for an alias in order to fool someone. The gowns were all beautiful, the lace intricate, and the ambiance of the salon was otherworldly, but even after too much champagne, she was still no closer to choosing her wedding dress.

It was Hetty who recognized her distress, and quickly took Ellen aside to smooth their departure. The woman looked disappointed, but immediately called for a helper to begin removing all the dresses that had come close to being chosen. Nell fingered one as it was whisked away, a look of longing on her face, and Kensi suddenly felt as if she'd let her down.

"Sorry, Nell," she said softly as they walked out into the brilliant sunlight of midday.

"No need to apologize, Kens. I think this place was more to my taste than to yours," she replied.

She was disappointed herself, and wondered if she was being too picky. Hetty insisted on taking them all to lunch before their next appointment, and she was suddenly famished, glad to be thinking about something other than lacy white dresses.

"Kensi…you ride with me," Hetty said, taking charge as she always did. "My Jag is just up the street."

"Where are we going, Hetty?" Nell asked.

"Where else? Chateau Marmont," she said with a laugh. "Were in Hollywood…well close enough anyway. The chef's a friend of mine and he makes an incredible Caesar salad."

So they were off on a wild ride with two of LA's scariest drivers trying to arrive at their destination ahead of the other. Hetty took Nell's attempts to pass her as a challenge and Kensi held on as her heart pounded, even closing her eyes as they roared through an intersection just missing a truck carrying window glass, and she didn't scare easily. Once on Sunset Boulevard, Hetty slowed down and Kensi released her grip on the armrest.

"Now Miss Blye, tell me how Mr. Deeks is doing," she said quietly. "The last time we spoke he said he hasn't been able to find his footing just yet."

"I'm not sure what to tell you Hetty."

"You don't have to protect him from me, Kensi," she said softly. "I'm on his side, and I'm concerned. He missed his psych eval appointment. Did he tell you that? And why?"

"No he didn't tell me that," suddenly angry with him.

"He's been through a lot, which is why I gave him the sabbatical," she replied. "But trying to work through everything all alone is worrisome."

"We're getting married. Why is he still keeping things from me?"

"He wants to make you happy, Kensi," she said. "Telling you he missed his psych eval would have cast a shadow over all your plans and preparations…like today."

"Do you think we should postpone the wedding?" Kensi asked nervously. "Maybe it's just adding to the stress he's feeling."

"No. I think your wedding is just what he needs," she said gently. "It's normal and comforting. Seeing you commit to him on your wedding day will make his family complete."

"Mine too."

Her heart went out to him with those words. They would be a family. One new and very special family that was all theirs. Their commitment to one another on their wedding day would create an unshakeable bond that nothing and no one would be able to break. They would finally stop circling each other, their year after year spiral finally meeting on a beach where she thought she had lost him. That was the day she'd realized just how empty the world was without him in it. All the things she thought were important she'd discovered meant nothing. Without him, she wasn't fully herself and she knew it was the same for him. A wedding dress was just tinsel, desired for the moment, but not terribly important in the scope of their lives. Their love and commitment would be the essence that remained.

Hetty pulled up to the valet just ahead of Nell, looking pleased as she exited the car. For the next hour and a half they had brunch in the hush and plush of the restaurant's old world interior. They drank mimosas, laughed at each other's stories, and listened in awe to Hetty reminisce about her early days in Hollywood.

"I had lunch right over there with Gene Wilder, one of the inherently funny men I've ever known, and the shyest," she said. "He was writing Young Frankenstein with Mel Brooks at the time. He wanted me to talk Cloris Leachman into taking a part in the movie. He was too shy to ask and knew we were friends."

"That's one of Deeks' favorite movies," Kensi said. "I think he knows every line in it."

"I think Gene would have liked Mr. Deeks," she replied. "Especially his silly side."

Kensi would like seeing that side of Deeks again herself. He had been subdued lately, only brightening when he caught her watching him, and when they made love. He could be a gentle lover, and a creative one, as he had shown last night, but his silliness, that childlike quality he had always had was barely apparent lately, except when defending himself while bantering with his brothers. She knew from experience what torture could do to a person's confidence. The combination of what had happened to him in Louisiana and the waterboarding had him fighting to come to terms with it all. She was pretty sure Hetty hadn't shared everything the two of them had discussed, but she would make it a priority to find out. She wanted nothing unspoken between them when they got married on that beach.

"Ready to try again?" Nell said in that chipper voice that always made her smile.

"You three have fun. I have plans this afternoon," Hetty said. "And Nell…I expect you to handle the financial end of things."

"Oh, every place I called was more than happy to take your credit card," she replied. "Especially after I told them the type of card it was."

"Yes, well, they should treat you properly then," she said as they stood to leave. "I look forward to seeing your final selection, Miss Blye. I'm sure it will be perfect."

"Thank you, Hetty, for everything," Kensi said, still amazed by her gift as she watched her walk away.

"We haven't gotten the bill yet," Di said as Nell started toward the door.

"Hetty's a regular here," Nell said. "It's taken care of."

"She's a generous friend to have," Di replied.

"I've never really thought of her as a friend," Kensi said. "She's our boss…but you're right…maybe she is a friend."

"More than that. She thinks of all of us as family," Nell said as she handed the valet her ticket.

Kensi let that thought settle as Nell began to describe the next bridal salon they were heading to. She felt much more in control of her emotions now, feeling excited, but not overwhelmed. Maybe the champagne and mimosas had helped, but whatever it was, she looked forward to the rest of the day.

The trip was quick and slightly less unnerving then before, but maybe she was just getting used to Nell's driving. She felt comfortable the minute she walked inside L'ezu. The salespeople were friendly and other women shopping for their own dresses were laughing and having fun, adding to a more casual atmosphere.

"Which one of you is Nell?" A beautiful older woman asked as she approached.

"That would be me," Nell said. "And you must be Juliana. This is Kensi, the bride to be, and her future sister-in-law, Diane."

Kensi looked over quickly at Di, the spoken connection warming her as Di smiled back and squeezed her hand. They had become close while they waited out the Louisiana mission together, but now they would be fledgling sisters, something she hadn't thought of when Deeks proposed. She was an only child, which she never regretted, so having a sister would be a new experience.

"Nell informed me you're getting married New Year's Day, which doesn't give us much time," Juliana said as she guided them over to a rack of dresses. "But don't worry, we've made tighter deadlines than yours. Now…beach wedding…yes?"

"Yes, ma'am," Kensi said, liking the woman's no nonsense approach.

Juliana looked her over with a critical eye, and then smiled and began pulling dresses off the rack, looking at each before either rejecting them or handing them to an assistant.

"You'll want something form fitting to accentuate your curves, but that flows out at the hips so the wind can catch the skirt for a little romance," the woman said. "Try this one first and we'll go from there. Alicia will show you to the dressing rooms."

The woman had the kind of confidence that reminded her of Hetty, and she knew she was in good hands. Once she was alone in the dressing room, she held the first dress up in front of her as she looked in the mirror. It had thin spaghetti straps and was somewhat plain, and for some reason, she disliked it, not even wanting to try it on. She opened the door to the dressing room to find Juliana smiling and holding up another dress.

"You didn't like it," the woman stated. "And you're right. It was the wrong choice. I remembered this dress and I immediately thought it looked like you. It came in yesterday and I hadn't had time to put it in the showroom. Please, try it on."

Kensi took the stunning gown in and Juliana stepped inside to help her. She felt her heart begin to race as she stepped into the dress and pulled it up. The bodice was covered in an intricate floral appliqué, the flowers seeming to float above the surface. The plunging neckline was ghosted over in a sheer fabric that covered the tops of her shoulders making it appear as if the flowers and vines were applied to her skin. A myriad of tiny flowers cascaded down the formfitting dress and over her hips before scattering haphazardly halfway down the frothy multilayered tulle skirt, the top two layers light and airy over the pale blue of the underskirt. It looked as if she was floating, and the pale blue reminded her of the ocean and the blue eyes of the man she loved so deeply.

"There is a matching veil that you can wrap around your shoulders to keep you a little warm as you walk out on the beach," Juliana said softly. "White gardenias and white roses would look lovely in your dark hair. You should wear it swept up in case it's windy that day. Of course we will leave a few tendrils to soften the look."

Kensi was stunned as she stared at herself in the full-length mirror, suddenly unable to stop smiling. She felt an overwhelming sense of joy as she lifted the soft, silky fabric of the gown and spun around in a complete circle as tears filled her eyes.

"Oh my god…I love it," she whispered.

…

…


	22. Chapter 22

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 22_

…

It had been a couple of days since Kensi had come home breathlessly excited about her wedding gown, and babbling happily about shoes and veils and flowers. Now Deeks understood as he stared at himself in the mirror. He had never worn a white tux before, even undercover, and he looked awesome, if he did say so himself. The guys surrounded him, making smart ass comments about angels and purity, specifically the lack there of, while George simply smiled and looked proud. Jim Littleshield had refused the offer of a tux, informing everyone he had brought his own ceremonial outfit for the occasion. It gave Deeks the chills that the old Arapaho had somehow known they would want him to officiate at their wedding even before they did.

Seeing George in a black tuxedo was eye opening. He looked nothing like the rough, tough rancher he was. He was a handsome man and Hetty fussed over him more than she did with the others. She was taking care of all the men's tuxes, including his, insisting there was no reason to spend money on clothing she already had in wardrobe. When Callen had reminded her that the wedding had nothing to do with any operation, she had stared him down and told him she would do whatever the hell she wanted as long as she was head of operations. Then she swore them all to secrecy.

"Papa? Do I get a tux?" Soldier asked as he fingered a suit on the rack that had been brought over to the boatshed.

"Of course you do," Hetty said. "Mr. Deeks told me that you and Christopher are to be the ring bearers, and you'll need a tux for that."

"Can I try it on?" The boy asked.

"It's being specially tailored for you," she said. "You can come in for a fitting when it's ready."

Soldier looked ecstatic at that news, but Elan shot a look at Deeks and they cornered her out of earshot of the boy.

"You're having a tux made for him, aren't you?" Elan asked.

"And what if I am, Mr. Hand?" she said pleasantly. "You do want him to have a tuxedo to match the others in the wedding party, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," Elan said. "But I should be the one paying for it."

"I understand," she said, looking a little too conspiratorial for Deeks' liking. "What do you say to a trade, Mr. Hand?"

"Hetty…"

Deeks didn't like where this was going. As thankful as he was for her help, he knew Hetty, and he knew what Elan's skills were, and he didn't want his wedding used to coerce his cousin into being part of one of her secret missions.

"Let's hear her out, Cuz." Elan said. "I'm damn sure it's gonna be interesting."

"I may need you to do a little something for me in Europe," she said lightly. "Lily would be your contact."

"Seriously?" Deeks said, his anger flaring. "This is my wedding and my family, not a recruiting opportunity."

"Take it easy, Cuz," Elan said. "I can say no if I want to."

"And if you do, Soldier will still get his tuxedo," Hetty assured him.

"And I'm still paying for it," Elan said firmly and without a smile.

"As you wish," she replied with a nod.

"Hetty? Is Lily in trouble?" Elan asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," she replied. "Not to worry, Mr. Hand. Lily knows how to take care of herself, as you well know."

"Then why would you need Elan in France?" Deeks asked.

"I don't believe I mentioned France, Mr. Deeks, and besides, that's on a need to know basis," she responded with a fleeting smile, walking away before he could say anything else.

"You don't have to do this, Elan," Deeks said, feeling anxious.

"It's Lily, Cuz," Elan said. "Things haven't been going so well between us. This could be my chance to get close to her again."

"It could also be a chance to get yourself killed," Deeks rushed out.

"You don't know that. You don't even know what the operation is," Elan said, sounding moody.

"And neither do you," Deeks said. "Don't agree to do anything until Hetty gives you specifics. Dammit, Elan. You're not even an agent. You have no standing with the US government if things go sideways."

"If that happens, I'll just call you," Elan said, and clapped him hard on the shoulder.

"You're in love with her," Deeks said softly.

"Hetty? She's too old for me, Cuz," Elan laughed.

"Stop being a dumbass," Deeks said. "Have you told Lily how you feel?"

"Yeah…and that's when the trouble started," he replied.

"Sounds familiar," Deeks said, remembering just how long it had taken for him and Kensi to reconcile their feelings for one another. "You'll work it out, brother."

"Not so sure about that," he replied. "I want her here and she wants me there."

"Tough tug-of-war for two stubborn people," Deeks said.

"She thinks I'm the stubborn one," Elan said quietly. "But she's the one who stopped talking. There might not be a solution, but I have to try and Hetty's little mission might be my opportunity."

"Hetty doesn't do 'little' missions," Deeks warned. "Remember that."

Deeks felt unsettled. Kensi's wedding dress was a generous gift from Hetty, as were the tuxedos, but he resented her attempt to use their wedding to drag Elan into her world. He had done that enough himself. The timing pissed him off as well. He didn't want to have to worry about what lay ahead for Elan on some op in France or Europe or wherever the hell it might be. He wanted to think about his upcoming beach wedding. He wanted to laugh and be free of any concerns about his family, to find joy in his future with no dark clouds hanging overhead. He wanted peace.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Callen asked, startling him from his thoughts.

"I'm thinking we should have eloped," he said, half jokingly.

"And miss the bachelor party of the decade?"

"Seriously? You're the one planning my bachelor party?" He laughed. "Now I know I should have eloped."

"Hey! I can make this a pleasant event or a living hell. Your choice," Callen warned with a devilish smirk.

"Sam? Help," Deeks yelled across the room. "Your partner is threatening to throw me the party from hell."

"He told me he knew all the best places in town," George said, looking confused.

"You lied to my dad?" Joe asked, giving Callen a good-natured shove.

"G wouldn't know a decent club if his life depended on it," Sam said. "The only time he goes out to a club is when he has to…for work."

"Undercover as a douchebag drug dealer or worse," Deeks added, grinning and beginning to enjoy picking on Callen.

"Callen doesn't have a fun bone in his body," Joe chimed in.

"That's not true. What about Mr. Carl?" Callen said, pointing at Sam.

"Those parties are usually short and end in a firefight, G," Sam reminded him. "Or a brawl."

"Leaving my wardrobe with a ruined suit," Hetty added. "Or lost pants."

"That was one time, Hetty."

"Deeks has probably been in more hot clubs than anyone here," Joe said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I hear he's known as Party Marty in some circles."

"That was a long time ago," Deeks said cockily in self defense.

"Is that what you tell Kensi?" Joe asked, unsuccessfully dodging a well aimed punch in the arm from Deeks.

"We could all fly to Vegas," Sam suggested.

"Can I come?" Soldier asked innocently.

"No!" Everyone said in unison.

"That said…I'm just getting over being dizzy on a daily basis, so I'm not really interested in partying till I puke," Deeks said quietly.

"Now who isn't any fun?" Callen said, although softly and with a hint of sympathy.

"We could go to a Clippers game," Joe suggested. "Then Soldier could come along."

"Or a Broadway show. You're partial to those, aren't you Mr. Deeks?" Hetty asked. "Hamilton's in town. I'm fairly certain I can score some tickets."

"That sounds more like a boring ordeal than a bachelor party," Sam said. "Deeks could take Eric while the rest of us go catch some improvisational jazz somewhere."

"Hetty…We can handle this," Callen said. "A bachelor party is a guy thing. It's supposed to be planned and executed by guys only. So, I'm afraid we have to ask you to leave."

"Those are usually fighting words, Mr. Callen," she replied. "But, in this case, I'll let it go. One correction however. My name is on the VIP lists of more club doormen in this city than all of you combined."

"Just had to brag, didn't you, Tiny Queen of the Night?" Deeks called after her, saying the nickname very softly as she stepped out the door.

"I heard that, Mr. Deeks," she said just as the door closed.

"Was she serious?" Jim Littleshield asked.

"Hetty's always serious," Sam said.

"She tells us if she's not." Callen added.

"Listen…I'm up for whatever you guys come up with," Deeks finally said.

"Of course you are. You don't have a choice, dumbass," Joe laughed.

"All you have to do is give us a guest list," Callen said. "Preferably guys with good stories to tell on you."

"That would probably be half the LAPD," Sam said, huffing out a laugh.

"Hey! I bet his old partner Rafferty could share some good stuff," Joe said.

"He already did that at his house, remember?" Deeks said.

"Yeah, but he has to have more stuff than that," Callen said. "How long were you two partners?"

"None of your damn business," Deeks said with a cocky grin.

"Never mind…I'll just have Eric hack LAPD's records," Callen said a little too flippantly for Deeks. "No telling what he might find."

"Really?" Deeks said quickly, suddenly not looking forward to his own party at all.

"Hey, brother…you're lucky the party's here in LA and not in Wyoming," Joe said. "I went to one for a buddy who got married straight out of high school. His four brothers trussed him up, threw him in an old metal cattle trough, squeezed bubble bath soap all over him and hosed him down. Then they put the trough in the back of a pickup and drove him all over town, stopping at every bar along the way. They finally left the trough, with him covered in bubbles, on the steps of the church where he was getting married the next morning. Did I mention he was naked?"

"If I remember right," George said. "After the wedding, that boy's wife didn't invite his brothers over for supper for over a year."

"Kensi probably woulda shot 'em," Deeks quipped.

"Is that a warning, Cuz?" Elan asked.

"Maybe."

"Guess you boys better not piss off the missus," Jim Littleshield warned.

"You're right about that…she's beautiful, but armed and dangerous," Sam said.

"She always has my back," Deeks said softly. "So you better go easy on me."

He didn't really care what they did for his bachelor party. He was confident that whatever they came up with would be fun and probably unconventional, if not a little weird. It felt good to joke and banter with all of them. It calmed him, but being around his brothers always did.

"So…who do you want to invite to this bachelor party of yours?" Callen asked. "Any old friends from the neighborhood?"

"Other than Eric, just Raffy and Pete Archuleta," he replied with a grin. "All my old friends from the neighborhood are either dead, in jail, or in Witsec."

"What about Bates?" Sam asked.

"Seriously? Have you met the man?" Deeks laughed. "We don't exactly party together."

"What about that basketball guy you know?" Joe asked. "You two grew up together."

"Got traded to the Knicks," Deeks said. "He'll be too busy lighting up New York."

"Small group," Callen said. "Ten good men…"

"Make that eight, son," George said. "I'd just slow you down and I promised Littleshield I'd take him to Disneyland. Give us and Soldier somewhere to be while you're all out on the town."

"Andy Rafferty is working there over Christmas break, Said he would get us tickets and show us around," Soldier said, his excitement making them all smile.

"Maybe we ought to join 'em?" Sam laughed. "Deeks could go on the tea cup ride, while G and I are over at Autopia racing each other."

"Yeah? Hate to break it to you, big guy, but I'm pretty sure you're too big for the Autopia cars," Deeks giggled.

"Yeah? Well, if we were to go there, I'd drop you at Goofy's Playhouse," Sam shot back. "You'll fit right in."

"I've never been to Disneyland," Callen said. "Don't they have something called Mr. Toad's Wild Ride? I always thought that sounded fun."

"That's old school, G," Sam said. "They've got Star Wars and stuff now. Used to take the kids all the time."

"You know what? It sounds a lot more fun than clubbing," Deeks finally said.

"Oh yeah…nothing says bachelor party like hoards of tourists, screaming kids and crying babies," Sam replied.

"Don't forget all the wild teenagers and drunken college students," Joe added.

"Still, it might be nice to do silly things after all the ugly shit we've been through," Deeks mused. "Innocent stuff, you know? And to be honest, I haven't felt innocent in a long time."

"You still carrying guilt about Louisiana, son?" George asked.

"Don't go there, brother," Joe said, the look on his face revealing he was still dealing with the aftermath of his time in the swamp too.

"You have nothing to feel guilty about, Deeks," Sam said firmly. "And neither do you, Joe."

"We all lost our innocence a long time ago," Callen said quietly.

"But, you're the good guys, right? You saved Uncle Joe," Soldier said. "And you stopped those Brotherhood guys so they couldn't hurt any more people. Just like you stopped Vera Freitas from selling those girls in Santa Fe. You got me away from her and from Billy and his brothers. You don't feel guilty about that…for helping me...do you?"

Elan came up behind his son and wrapped an arm a round his chest and pulled him close. Deeks shot a worried look at Callen and then Joe, remembering how tentative the boy had been around all of them when they first came to know him. His words touched Deeks because he sounded so young, like he had regressed to that scared boy he'd met in the dark in a shithole under a barn in Truchas. He knelt down in front of him and put his hand on his shoulder.

"I've never been prouder of doing anything in my life. Helping you get away from those bastards was one of the best things I've ever done," Deeks said. "And I don't feel guilty about anything that happened there, except the death of your mother."

"But that wasn't your fault, Uncle Deeks," he said. "And I think you should be proud of what you did in Louisiana too."

"The boy's right, son," George said quietly.

"Don't second guess yourself," Sam said firmly. "You both did what you had to do under tough circumstances, and you survived to come home to the people you love. Don't feel guilty about that."

"What happened might have changed us both, Marty," Joe said. "But, doing all this wedding stuff made me realize how much hasn't changed. We're still family, and you're still a dumbass about to start a new one."

"Couldn't have said it better, brother," Deeks said, as he stood up and pulled Joe in for a quick hug.

"Guys? Are you really going to Disneyland for Deeks' bachelor party?" Eric called out from the screen behind them.

"You been spying on us this whole time?" Sam's voice boomed out.

"Sort of…it's kinda what I do..."

"So you know you're invited to the bachelor party," Callen said, smirking as Eric's smile widened.

"Can I cast my vote for Disneyland?" He asked, looking hopelessly childlike. "I like to dress up when I go. Pretend to be one of the characters."

"You are a character, Eric," Sam said, trying to look fierce and failing badly.

"Hey! We could all dress up. Go as different characters," Eric suggested excitedly. "Callen could go as Indiana Jones, Sam could…"

"Don't say another word, Beale," Sam interrupted. "I am not dressing up as some Disney character."

"Where's your spirit of adventure, Sam?" Deeks laughed.

"You wear a Goofy costume and I might consider it," Sam sniped back.

"I think I'd make a great Indiana Jones," Callen said. "Hetty probably even has a bullwhip around here somewhere."

"Who could I be?" Soldier asked, his excitement hard to miss.

"Who's your favorite Disney character?" Eric asked.

"I don't know any…I mean I never got to see any of the movies or nothin' when I was a kid," Soldier said, sounding embarrassed as if he had done something wrong.

"Me either, kid," Callen said as he threw an arm over his shoulder, causing Soldier to visibly relax.

"Well…there's Frontierland with lots of cowboys and Indians…" Eric started to say.

"You're kidding, right?" Elan said. "You trying to stereotype my son?"

"No…no…I didn't mean that…" Eric replied, flustered and obviously trying to cover his mistake.

"It's okay, papa. He didn't mean nothing," Soldier said calmly and turned once again toward the screen. "I'm already both…got anything else I could be?"

Eric looked deep in thought for a moment and then his face lit up like it did when he discovered a missing clue.

"Ever want to be a pirate?" Eric asked. "They have a ride called Pirates of the Caribbean. You'd make a perfect pirate."

"Watch out Johnny Depp…here comes Soldier Hand," Deeks said, grinning along with all of them and solidifying the site of his bachelor party.

" _Yo ho, yo ho…a pirate's life for me_ ," Eric sang out heartily.

"Tell me this isn't happening G," Sam moaned.

"Don't worry Sam, the Blue Bayou restaurant has great Cajun food…" Eric froze when he realized what he'd said. "Sorry guys…I didn't think…"

"Been there…done that…and probably ate whatever the hell they've got," Joe said. "We'll pass on the restaurant, but I would like to see Soldier as a pirate."

"Can I, Papa?" Soldier asked, his excitement so obvious that Elan couldn't help but agree.

"Where the hell am I gonna find a pirate costume?" Elan asked to no one in particular.

"No problem. One whole room in my apartment is dedicated to costumes and stuff," Eric said.

"Why am I not surprised?" Callen muttered.

"Maybe we should all go as pirates," Deeks said. "It'll be like going undercover, only in another century."

"Undercover as pirates," Callen mused. "I like it. Indiana Jones seemed a little hackneyed anyway."

"So a pirate's life for you too?" Deeks laughed.

"Aye, matey," he replied.

"Heaven help me," Sam said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I've got a really cool sword you can use, Sam," Eric said. "It's rubber, so you can't hurt anybody."

"I'm not sure that's a selling point right now, Eric," Callen said.

"Please tell me you all aren't seriously considering dressing up as pirates and walking around in public," Sam pleaded.

"It's LA, Sam," Callen said. "No one will even notice."

…

…


	23. Chapter 23

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 23_

...

 **Rated M**

…

He'd grown to love hearing her laugh from the very beginning, but her cackle, the one that came out when she thought something was ridiculous, not so much. It was slightly scary and crazed, in a charming sort of way. That disturbing cackle is what he heard when he told her they were dressing up as pirates and going to Disneyland for his bachelor party. Being made fun of by your future wife hurt for a brief moment, but then he laughed it off and started to enjoy the bad jokes she began making and the joy he saw on her face. He loved seeing her happy, so he took her harmless mockery and laughed with her.

"Are you done?" He finally asked, unable to keep from smiling.

"Maybe, but if I think of any new ones…no promises," she said, moving sensuously to him and putting her hands on his chest.

"Are you going as Jack Sparrow?" She asked, her breath warm against his lips. "He's very sexy."

"No…Elan and Soldier are arguing over that particular pirate," he replied softly and tightened his arms around her.

"So what pirate are you going to be?" She asked and kissed him lightly on the nose. "Maybe the guy with the octopus for a head. I could see that."

"I bet you could," he laughed. "I was thinking more of the Orlando Bloom character. He would fit me better. We're both handsome swashbucklers and have awesome hair."

"You fancy yourself a swashbuckler do you?"

"I do."

"And what do swashbucklers do?"

"They steal gold doubloons from captured ships and woo beautiful wenches afterwards," he said softly.

"And just how do you woo these wenches?" She nuzzled his neck, causing chills and growing excitement.

"I would have to demonstrate for you to fully appreciate my sexy, swashbuckling, wooing technique," he whispered as he moved his hand up under her shirt.

"Are there going to be wenches joining you during your bachelor party?"

"Seriously? It's Disneyland," he leaned back to cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Just wondering if you're going someplace after," she said, shrugging her shoulders innocently.

"No…but it sounds like it would bother you if we did," he said, knowing he shouldn't be surprised by her reaction.

"I don't like to share," she said.

"Feeling a little jealous there, Kensilina?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted.

"You're the only wench I'm ever gonna woo, baby," he said softly. "I love you."

"Then you better start wooing, Mr. Swashbuckler," she said. "Or this wench is going to take matters into her own hands and ravage you."

"Now that's the best offer I've had all night," he laughed.

"It better be the only offer you've had all night," she said as she grabbed his shirt and yanked it up and over his head.

"You can be a very demanding wench," he said, pulling her against his bare chest.

"Remember that, pirate boy."

"Kens. You don't have to worry about me cheating on you. You know that, right?" He said earnestly. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I will never do anything to jeopardize our relationship…our marriage."

"I know," she whispered, sudden tears clinging to her lashes. "I know."

He took her head in his hands and kissed her tenderly on the lips and then stared into her eyes, needing to see that she believed him. She blinked back her tears and caressed his cheeks, her fingers running up into his hair as she looked at him, her lips trembling with a gentle smile.

"I never thought I would feel this way about anyone, Deeks," she said. "I love you so much that the thought of anyone trying to take you away from me, or even making a play for you…"

"You're not going to be on overwatch while we're at Disneyland are you, cause that would be really weird."

"Hadn't thought of that, but I may consider it," she said, looking quite serious and scaring him.

"Really?"

"I'm kidding, baby," she said and uttered a brief laugh. "I do trust you, Deeks, so no…I won't sneak into Disneyland and spy on you."

"And no having Nell hack the security cameras either," he said.

"Another good idea…that I promise not to do."

"I think maybe you're more of a pirate than a wench," he said, kissing her again. "I'm going to ask Eric if he has a pirate outfit for you. No reason we can't do a little role-playing after the wedding. You can play Kiera and I will be Orlando."

With that he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, slapping her on the butt and singing out " _yo ho, yo ho…a pirate's life for me_."

He could feel her giggling as he carried her up the stairs, even as she beat her fists lightly on his back. His own smile widened as he kicked the bedroom door open and tossed her down on the bed. Her hair was a tousled mess and sexy as hell. She rose up on her elbows, her breasts pushing against the thin fabric of her shirt and he hardened as she slowly spread her legs. The only light in the room came from the streetlight outside, the warm glow softly highlighting the edge of her jaw. He undid his belt as he watched her, unhurried as he pushed his jeans down past his hips as if performing for her. Her mouth was open and panting when he finally stood naked in front of her, resisting the urge to move quickly to satiate himself, wanting to see what she would do.

Her eyes moved down his body and she sucked in her lip, her tongue wetting it, causing an electric surge throughout his body. When she lifted her shirt over her head, he saw she wore no bra and the soft light curved around her breasts and his body began to vibrate with want. He knelt down before her and slowly pulled her pants down past her bare feet, leaving them in a puddle on the floor. She was wearing a pale blue throng and when he reached for it she stopped him, slowly rising to her feet. He caressed her ass and moaned as she pressed her body against his waiting mouth. He felt her body jerk as he breathed hot air between her legs, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs as his tongue licked at the thong, feeling her quiver in anticipation as it became wet. He slid it down, desperately wanting her now as her long fingers carded through his hair. He heard and felt an explosion of breath as his tongue darted inside her, licking and suckling as she writhed, her hands now clawing into his shoulders, whispering his name when she came. He tumbled her back onto the bed, yanking the wet thong off, urgently needing her. He spread her legs, teasing her once again with his tongue, the taste of her intoxicating. Crawling up between her legs he buried himself inside her, unable to wait, sucking her breast into his mouth as she gripped his hair in both fists and bucked against him. He came quickly and powerfully, unable to hold back any longer, and her body shivered as she panted through her climax. Their bodies radiated heat as he collapsed slowly on top of her, breathing hard and smiling. He heard a soft laugh and felt her hands moving slowly over his back.

"You are one hell of a swashbuckler," she said, her voice low and breathless.

"And you're the most beautiful wench on the seven seas," he whispered and kissed her deeply.

"You mean pirate," she said when they took a breath.

"You can steal my doubloons anytime, baby," a laugh bubbling out as he rolled off of her.

"Oh…I plan on it," she whispered as her hand slid down his body.

"No, no no…" his voice getting higher as he fought to grab her hand. "My doubloons are tired, baby…they need to replenish themselves…"

"Really…and you call yourself a swashbuckler?" she said and slapped him on the stomach. "Come on Orlando, your wench is hungry."

"I thought you were a pirate?" He laughed as he followed her off the bed.

"I'm a pirate wench," she said, turning the light on in the bathroom and starting the shower.

"No…you're the most beautiful woman I've ever known," he said as he moved up behind her and cupped a breast in each hand. "And I can't believe you're going to be my wife."

"Why not?"

"Because it's too good to be true," he said, kissing her lightly on the shoulder. "It's like a fairytale…an otherworldly fantasy."

"But perfect."

"Yeah…perfect."

They showered together, laughing and playful, giggling as they washed each other, kissing passionately and exploring each other's familiar bodies. When the water became tepid, she opened the door and pulled him out, grabbing two towels and slowly drying his hair while he wrapped her in terry cloth and smiled like a idiot.

"God, you make me happy," he said.

"Know what will make me happy?" She asked as she dropped the towel over his bare ass and yanked him to her. "Clam chowder, onion rings, and fish tacos at The Albright on the Santa Monica Pier."

"That's very specific," he laughed. "How long have you been craving all that?"

"Ever since we started talking about pirates."

"I'm pretty sure pirates never ate fish tacos, or onion rings for that matter," Deeks said.

"Well…we're modern day pirates and this pirate is hungry."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and dropped her towel, sashaying back into the living room leaving him smiling and incredibly happy. He leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe watching her dress, wondering how he had gotten so lucky. He was running out of words to describe her even to himself.

His mind drifted over the last few weeks, and he was reluctantly drawn back to his time with Donovan Pohl. His greatest fear while being waterboarded was that if he broke and divulged what Pohl wanted, he would never see her again, never hold her or kiss her or make the kind of love they had just experienced. In the beginning it had taken great effort to try and convince himself he could survive that particular torture. When Pohl began the fourth or maybe it was the fifth bout, he became desolate, fighting alone in the darkness of his own mind, his fear running rampant and unchecked the longer it continued, until he resigned himself to drowning. He'd felt a deep sadness then, disappointed in himself and sad for her, asking her forgiveness as he felt his life slipping away. The moment he opened his eyes, choking on strangled breaths, he'd searched for her face, knowing she would be there, counting on her, needing her presence to convince himself he was alive. He never wanted to be alone like that ever again. A sudden chill made him walk quickly over to her, wrapping her in his arms and nuzzling his face in her still damp hair.

"Hey," she said softly as she turned to face him. "Are you okay?"

"Flashback," he murmured, clinging to her like a lifeline as he battled waves of emotion.

"I've got you, baby," she whispered, her arms strong and comforting.

"I'm counting on it," he said, his breathing slowly starting to even out as the memories dimmed.

He had no idea how long they stood holding one another, or how her strength enabled him to right himself. She was his anchor, and had been for a long time, but tonight he felt it more than he ever had. When he released his hold on her, he stepped back so he could see her face. Her eyes were full of concern, but behind that was pure love and he leaned in and kissed her for it. She brushed his messy hair away from his eyes, caressing his cheek as she stared at him.

"You want to skip the pier? I can order in," she offered.

"No…no. I probably need to get out. Might help."

"Pirate food." She said with a soft smile.

"Yeah, that'll do the trick," he laughed.

"They do have really good onion rings," she said, as she stepped away and grabbed up her leather jacket. "You going out in the raw like that? It's December. Wouldn't want your doubloons to freeze."

"You like that analogy a lot don't you?" He asked, a sense of warmth flooding through him as he recalled their lovemaking.

"Family jewels, pirate style," and then she cackled.

…

She had insisted on driving his truck, and he'd given in without an argument, now zoning out as they made their way through traffic toward the pier. He wasn't sure why he felt so tired, and dragged his hand down over his face. She reached over and gently squeezed his thigh and he looked over at her. She nodded at the corner coming up. They were driving by the Farmers Market and on the corner was a Christmas tree lot.

"Mr. Jingles Christmas Trees," he said quietly. "That's where we bought our first tree together."

"We don't have one yet," she said. "Maybe we can stop and get one on the way home."

"I'd like that," he said, feeling his spirits lift.

He always enjoyed decorating for the holidays, but this year with all the attacks, the idea had gotten lost. He hadn't even thought about putting up lights or shopping for Christmas gifts, and wondered if Kensi had either.

"You got my gift yet?" He asked, letting a goofy smile spread across his face.

"Maybe…"

"Did you hide it somewhere?" He quizzed. "I haven't noticed any shopping bags in the corner of the bedroom where you usually toss them."

"Not tellin," she said firmly. "And don't try and interrogate me about it, otherwise I may not give it to you."

"So you did get me a gift," he said.

She roared away from the stoplight without saying a word, and he laughed. "I'll find it."

"No, you won't," she said, starting to sound a little irritated.

"I was a detective…remember?" He said with a laugh. "I will find it."

"Why do you want to spoil Christmas?" She asked.

"I don't. I just get an itch to find things that are hidden from me," he said. "It's what I do."

"Don't even think about doing it this time," she warned.

"Yeah, you're right. I'd rather be surprised," he said softly.

He could tell she was watching him, but he decided to ignore it, concentrating instead on watching Christmas shoppers as they toted bags full of presents down clogged streets past decorated store windows. He'd always loved the trimmings of Christmas, even though it had always been a troubling time when his father was around. After he went to prison, his mom had made their first Christmas together as special as she could. He knew she was trying to make up for everything that had happened, but he had appreciated her efforts as meager as they were. The tree hadn't been much, and nothing like the one his teacher, Mrs. Joyce had put up the year before, but it was still one of his favorite moments with his mom.

"You okay?"

"I haven't gotten you anything," he said.

"You will though, right?" She asked, smiling as she tried to lighten his mood. "I've been very good."

"Kens? Can we skip the pier and just go back and get a tree, take it home and decorate it? Maybe order pizza?"

"What's going on Deeks?" She asked as they stopped at a light. "You've been moody ever since having that flashback."

"I just want to do normal things, Kens, like everybody else," he said, looking longingly out at the throngs of holiday shoppers coming out of the Beverly Center.

"Okay, baby…let's make Christmas," she said, smiling brightly at him and making him love her even more if that was possible.

She turned the corner and headed back to Mr. Jingles Christmas Trees and he felt himself starting to feel more lighthearted. "Thanks, Kensilina."

"Lunch tomorrow, you're buying me fish tacos," she said firmly.

"And onion rings and a Christmas present," he added, finally smiling.

"That's what I'm talkin about," she said, grinning happily at him.

They held hands as they wandered among the Christmas trees, their pungent smell comforting, reminding him of the ranch. They argued over the attributes of the different types of trees and whether it should be fat or tall and where they should put it. He bought her a hot chocolate and watched as she seriously considered a woebegone little pine that shed needles whenever anyone walked by. He shook his head and pulled her toward a row of Noble Firs, and seeing that they were alone for the moment, he pushed her into the nearest tree and kissed her.

When they parted, he looked up at the tree beside them. "This is the one."

"This tree is huge, Deeks," she said, wide eyed. "It wouldn't even fit in the front door, let alone the living room."

"Oh ye of little faith, Miss Grinch," he said.

"I am not a Grinch," she snapped. "I'm just a good judge of space".

"Seriously?" He laughed. "Are you forgetting the first bed you picked out? After we managed to get it up the stairs and set it up, we couldn't even walk around it without edging along the walls."

"Well, you didn't say anything when we bought it, smarty pants," she argued. "So that was not all my fault."

"Smarty pants? Really? Okay…I'll give you that, but this is the perfect tree for us. Trust me…it'll fit," he said softly, wanting it for reasons he couldn't exactly explain.

Maybe it reminded him of that Christmas tree his fourth grade teacher had shown him in her front room. That tree had been magical to him and he wanted to fill their house with the same feeling of wonder he'd felt that Christmas day. He wanted that sense of peace it had brought, along with the knowledge that there was another life out there, one very different from the one he was living.

"Kens? Have you ever thought of doing something else?" He asked and turned to face her. "Something normal?"

"Deeks…," She looked confused and concerned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying…I might not want to go back to NCIS."

…

…


	24. Chapter 24

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 24_

…

It hadn't been the right time, and sure as hell not the right place, and he wondered afterward why he had even expressed an idea he hadn't even thought through. He had ruined the evening, and quite possibly their future, if Kensi's reaction was any indication. He had taken her earlier understanding and crushed it with his sudden confession of uncertainty. Her battle to understand had played out on her face, emotions raging in her eyes and her trembling lips and finally a rigid jaw. The Christmas tree was forgotten, and reasoning unspoken. Silence had followed them home because whatever he couldn't explain she hadn't wanted to hear. She looked as if he'd betrayed her, and he couldn't fault her for that. The house seemed too small to hold both of them and the explosive decision, if it even was a decision. He left her there and walked back out to find somewhere to think about that one small sentence that seemed to have changed the entire atmosphere between them. His own emotions were raw, and infused with regret, but if he were being honest with himself, it was the truth. A half-truth maybe, but still a realty he was wrestling with and had no longer been able to keep inside. Should he have kept it to himself? Probably. At least until he was sure and possibly held it in until after the wedding, but that didn't seem fair either.

"You are truly a dumbass, buddy," Deeks whispered as he parked across the street from a once favorite dive bar. "And this proves it."

Throwing good sense out the car window, he got out and made his way between passing cars, crossing the street on a relatively quiet night. This particular bar was a place he hadn't been to since he signed the papers Hetty had pushed in front of him all those years ago. It had been his favorite since his first undercover assignment, and he knew the owner, or at least he used to. He was a former captain in the LAPD, had done his share of undercover work, and he had used his name for an alias he despised.

"Hey, Max," he said as he slid onto a bar stool at the far end.

"Been awhile, kid," Max replied. "What can I get you?"

"Just a beer, I guess," he said, feeling some of the tension ease from his shoulders.

"Not on the job?" He asked, huffing out a laugh when he saw the quizzical look on Deeks' face. "Except for that first time, you always ordered coffee when you were on duty."

"Yeah…guess I did. Taking a break," he said.

"Still got the long hair I see," Max said as he placed an open bottle of Corona in front of him.

"And I see you're still lacking that particular asset," Deeks shot back with a grin and took a large swallow of beer.

"Well, that's one thing that's never gonna change," Max said. "Bates told me you're a Fed."

"Yeah, for a while now…but maybe not much longer," he said, surprised at his own admission.

"Why's that? An operation go bad on you?" The man asked, his eyes locked with his.

When Deeks looked down at the label on his beer and said nothing, Max wiped up some imaginary spill on the bar top and waited him out. The man had always been perceptive and he knew the game.

"Seen Pete Archuleta lately?" Deeks asked, trying to deflect his curiosity.

"I get invited over for the occasional barbecue, but he hasn't been in since he retired," Max answered softly. "Didn't know did you?"

"When?"

"Retired right after Celina had the baby last year," he said, watching for his response. "Didn't know that either I'm guessing. You should stay in touch with old friends, Deeks. Especially the ones who took a bullet for you."

"Boy or girl?" He asked, acknowledging the rebuke, but suddenly happy for his old undercover partner. "And please tell me he didn't name his baby after a Stephen King character."

"Little girl. Named her Yazhi. Means 'little one' in Navajo," Max said. "He talks baby talk to her. Proudest papa I've ever seen. Brags on her all the time for the littlest thing she does."

"Teyo's a big brother now, yeah?" He said, feeling a chill as flashes of the little boy mixed with bad memories. "He must be…what? Eight?"

"About that, I guess," Max said. "He's a hellion that one. Good thing he's got Pete for a dad."

"He and Celina ever marry?"

"No. Those two aren't exactly a conventional couple," he replied. "But they are a strong one. Devoted…to use an old-fashioned word."

"Only good to come out of that op," Deeks said.

"What op you trying to come out of?" Max asked as he set another Corona down in front of him.

"One I didn't come here to talk about," he said, sounding surly and defensive.

"Bullshit, kid," Max said abruptly. "With all the bars in LA and you come to the one run by an old ex-cop who knows you and all about the shit you go through undercover. No…you came for a reason or to get blasted or maybe both, but you aren't here by chance, kid…not by a long shot."

Max waited a couple of seconds, but when Deeks just stared back at him he shook his head and walked back to the other end of the bar. This place had been a safe haven once. A place where he'd let his raw emotions of fear and rage explode. A place he'd been able to catch his breath so he could continue on the road he had to follow. Maybe Max was right. He had come here for a reason, but at the moment the thought of talking about his future, and especially his last op or the torture that followed was about as palpable as the sour taste of his beer right now. He shoved the almost empty bottle aside and started to get up when Max walked back and set a glass of whiskey down in front of him.

"Relax, kid. I'm not going to push you to talk about your feelings," Max said quietly. "Stay. Think. Drink. Hell…get blasted if you need to. I still got that room upstairs if you need to crash."

"Thanks, man," Deeks said.

He never liked to get totally drunk, although he had on certain memorable occasions. It reminded him too much of his father. Losing control was his great fear. But tonight he didn't care. He might have blown his one chance at complete happiness with a woman he loved unconditionally and if that wasn't a good enough reason to get blind drunk, he didn't know what was. His fourth whiskey, or maybe it was his fifth, had him feeling no pain, but he thought he saw something in the way Max looked at him that would usually put him on guard, but the thought was too elusive to capture. The bar was close to empty now, only a few diehards remaining, and he found himself staring at the red and yellow neon in the window, the colors blurring into each other as he tried to focus. When Pete Archuleta walked in the door, he shouted out his name and laughed, pointing an accusing finger at Max as he set a cup of coffee down in front of him.

"You called him?" he slurred out.

"Yeah, kid, I did," Max said. "Now…drink some coffee. You're drunk enough."

"Sonofabitch."

"You calling me names now, brother?" Pete asked as he straddled the bar stool next to him.

His sleek black hair was still long and he was wearing it loose tonight, reminding him of Elan. He'd put on weight, but his broad chest and the muscles rippling under the skin of his forearms was a warning he was still formidable. He was a big man and tough as hell and one of the best friends he'd had in the LAPD.

"You're a daddy, yeah?" He mumbled, ignoring the coffee. "Guess you really are Mother Goose now."

"Don't mind that nickname you gave me anymore," Pete said with a half smile. "Suits me actually. Read to the kids all the time."

"Why you here, Goose? I'm not your problem anymore," Deeks said, feeling a little irritated by the intrusion.

"I'm your friend, Marty," he replied, pushing the coffee closer. "Max seems to think you need to get something off your chest. Do you? Cause I'll listen."

"Don't need a babysitter this time," he said in a low warning voice.

"Not offering, but somebody sure as hell messed with your head," Pete said calmly. "Or you wouldn't be here drinkin'."

"You a psychol…psychologist now?" He was surprised how difficult it was to get the word out as he stared at his old partner through a haze of alcohol.

"Maybe you need to sleep it off," Pete suggested, angering him.

"Fuck off."

He stumbled off of the barstool and tried to shove Pete off his, but he faltered as he slammed into the solid body of the ex-cop. Pete shook his head and laughed, grabbing Deeks' arm so he wouldn't fall when he tripped over his own feet.

"You mighta let him drink a little too much, Max," Pete said as he helped him toward the back stairs.

"I'm not a babysitter either," Max said. "Thought it might loosen him up enough to talk about it."

"He's loose all right," Pete said as he pulled Deeks' arm over his shoulder and helped him up the stairs.

"Kensi know where you are?"

"Don't think she cares," he mumbled as Pete half carried him into the room and eased him down onto the bed.

"Aren't you two getting married? Got a call about your bachelor party," Pete said as he lifted his feet up on the bed and began taking off his shoes.

Deeks kicked his hands away and tried to sit up, but the room spun and he groaned and lay back down. "Guess it's not…not too smart to drink…after a concus…concussion."

"Shit. You didn't tell Max that little bit of info, did you?" Pete said. "When'd it happen? Deeks? When?"

"Couple days…maybe…before that asshole…water…waterboarded me," he whispered as his mind began to drift.

"Sonofabitch, Marty. What the hell did Hetty get you into?" Pete said softly as he sat down by him on the bed.

"Had to find Joe," he said. "Me and Callen…in a stinking swamp. Had to eat grits and hog…watch a man get butchered…couldn't stop 'im. God, Pete…I didn't…I didn't even try."

"Shhhh, Marty. Sleep," Pete said gently as he pulled a blanket over him. "We'll talk in the morning."

"Told Kens I wanted to quit," he whispered. "She's mad at me, Pete…really mad."

"She won't be for long, kid," Pete assured him. "Trust me. I'm with a woman just like Kensi. Celina blows up at me all the time and a day later we talk it out. Kensi loves you, brother."

Deeks actually felt like explaining, but he couldn't form any words. When the vultures came in the night he was unaware of Pete's comforting hand on his chest as he struggled through the dark recurring nightmare he had yet to elude.

…

She hadn't been able to sleep even though she'd gotten into bed after he left. She had piled all the pillows around herself for comfort, but it hadn't worked, and now she was sitting cross-legged in the overstuffed chair in the living room with a tub of ice cream in her lap. She had let him go without a word, and as she glanced at the clock for the millionth time, she couldn't help but worry that she had blown it. She knew she should have talked with him about what he'd said, but she hadn't. She had let her own fears cloud her judgment. He was her partner and the thought that he didn't want that anymore had angered her. It felt like a betrayal. For the first couple of hours she'd sulked and recited out loud every reason why she should feel left out and pissed about a decision he'd never spoken of until they were standing in a Christmas tree lot. Now she wondered once again, why then? And why there? He was a dumbass, she said as she shoved the overloaded spoon in her mouth.

She knew he'd been going through a difficult time. She knew he was having nightmares, and she knew all the reasons why he was having them. She'd been selfish and stupid and now she was alone with no way to reach him, and no idea where he'd gone or if he was coming back. But she knew that wasn't true as soon as the thought entered her mind. That wasn't Deeks. He had left to clear his mind, but he would come back. They would work it out, because regardless of the anger that had flared inside her, she loved him and he loved her.

"Maybe I'm the dumbass," she said softly to a spoonful of his favorite ice cream.

When her phone rang, she smiled until she saw who the caller was, and a knot tightened in her stomach.

"Hetty? What's wrong?"

"Your fiancé is fine, Miss Blye. I had a call from Pete Archuleta," she said. "He's with Mr. Deeks."

"Where?"

"I think it best you leave him be tonight…"

"That's not happening," she interrupted. "I need to talk to him."

"I don't think that's possible tonight, dear," she replied kindly. "As Mr. Archuleta put it, he got shit-faced and passed out."

"What? Did Pete talk to him? Before?"

"He did and was rather upset with me over what Mr. Deeks told him," she said. "He wanted to know what I had let happen to him, and who had waterboarded him. He was quite angry about that. Lucky for Mr. Pohl that he's in custody."

"What did you tell him?"

"Not much, but enough so he can deal with Mr. Deeks when he wakes up."

"I should be there, Hetty."

"He's still having nightmares isn't he?"

"Yes. Every night," she replied, feeling guilty she hadn't talked to someone about that.

"He's been through a lot and unfortunately has passed up a couple of appointments with the psychologist," Hetty said. "What caused him to go off by himself tonight?"

Kensi hesitated, not wanting to reveal something Deeks didn't want Hetty to know just yet.

"I suspect he told you he might not want to come back to NCIS," Hetty said softly.

"He already talked to you?" Kensi said, feeling left out again and slightly angry about it.

"It's the reason I gave him the sabbatical," Hetty replied. "It's a decision he needs to be sure of, but he also needs to talk to someone, and I think he knows that."

"Why didn't he talk to me, Hetty? Warn me he was thinking that way?"

"I'm not sure he knew how."

"When he did, I wasn't prepared for it," Kensi said. "But why didn't he go to George or Callen or Joe, or even Sam?"

"Because they're too close to it. They know too much and Callen and Joe were a part of it all," she said. "Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone who doesn't know all the details. It allows you to control the story…tell only what you want them to see and to know. It's all about control, because he doesn't feel he has any over his own emotions."

"I don't want to lose him as a partner, Hetty."

"And if you do, will that change things between you?" She asked, the starkness of the question leaving her stunned.

"No, of course not…but…"

"I think he needs to know that, Kensi," she said. "But I'd wait until he's sober. Let Pete Archuleta be his sounding board for tonight. He's a good friend and Mr. Deeks trusts him."

"He doesn't want to be found right now," Kensi said. "Not by me anyway."

"No, but he went to a place where he'd found sanctuary before," Hetty said. "The man who owns that bar knew him years ago. He's been where Mr. Deeks is now. He understands. And he called Mr. Archuleta. They all have history together."

"Thanks, Hetty," Kensi said.

"I have a feeling he'll call you in the morning," she replied.

"He better, or I'm calling you for the address of that bar," Kensi said. "He's not getting away from me that easily."

"And I'm sure he doesn't want to."

She let out a long sigh and got up to take the half melted tub of ice cream into the kitchen, tossing it in the sink along with the spoon. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and she did nothing to stop them as they overflowed and slid down her cheeks. She felt fiercely protective of him, and so very sorry that she had let him go without knowing she would stand by whatever he decided, no matter how much it would hurt. Every instinct she had told her to find him, to go to him and make things right, but deep down she knew the timing was wrong. She needed to give him space to work out his demons in a safe place with people he trusted. As much as she wanted to be the one to help him, she loved him enough to let him fight this battle on his own terms, at least for the moment. In the morning, she would find him. They had promised each other that together, they would take on whatever came their way. He had to know she wasn't letting him out of that pact or out of their wedding.

…

The smell of strong coffee woke him, but he didn't open his eyes, afraid they might explode. The roaring, brightly pulsing pain in his head and the growing rebellion in his stomach kept him still. The last thing he needed was the dry heaves. He hadn't been this hungover since college, at least that he could remember. What he didn't remember was what the hell he'd been thinking, and where the hell he was? He cracked one eye open on a semi-dark room, noticing for the first time the sound of soft snoring. He chanced a slow move, and raised his head slightly to look over at the chair beside the bed. Pete Archuleta's chin rested on his chest and his fingers were interlaced across his stomach. The snores suddenly stopped and his head snapped up, the man alert almost instantly.

"Where are we?" Deeks asked in a whisper.

"Max's place. Upstairs. You got little hammered, brother," Pete said, yawning as he stretched out his arms.

"I believe that's an understatement," he replied. "But the way my head feels, the hammer reference is appropriate."

"You ready for coffee, or want the aspirin first?" He said, smiling as he stood.

"Make that twenty or thirty aspirin and a gallon of coffee," he said as he buried his face in the pillow and groaned softly.

"Better eat something too," Pete said as he headed into the bathroom.

"No…no, no. Not a good idea," Deeks moaned.

"Neither was drinkin' while recovering from a concussion," Pete said as he held out four aspirin and a glass of water.

"How'd you know about the concussion?" Deeks asked after downing the aspirin and slowly turning over on his back.

"You rambled out a few things before you dozed off," Pete said. "Like being waterboarded by some asshole."

"Yeah…about that…"

"You can tell me after you've had coffee and before Kensi gets here," Pete said and headed for the door.

"Wait! You called Kensi?"

"No, but I'm betting Hetty did," he said. "Might want to shower, brother. You got that boozy smell she probably ain't gonna like."

"Pete? Why did you retire?"

He wasn't sure why he blurted that out just then, but he was suddenly curious. He watched as Pete dropped his head and searched for an answer. When he looked back at him he saw his face soften.

"Just selfish, I guess," he said quietly. "We put away a lot of bad guys doing what we do, and I was always proud of that. Still am, but when I held my baby girl for the first time, I knew I had to get out before I got killed. I wanted to see her grow up…and besides…I was living on borrowed time anyway."

"Yeah…I get it," Deeks said as he stared at the ceiling.

"I been doing this a lot longer than you, kid," Pete continued. "Had too many close calls, just like you. But what I didn't have was a team or a partner watchin' my back like you do. I was alone out there, but you aren't. I don't know everything you went through on that last op, or why someone would want to waterboard you, and I can see it left you with scars, physically and mentally, but I know how strong you are, Marty, and I know you love what you do. All I'm saying is, don't rush into a decision. Give yourself time to heal, and space to forget some of the shit you saw."

"I let a man get butchered right in front of me, Pete," he said. "How do I forget that?"

"I gotta feeling that's the simplistic version," he replied. "You can tell me the long version if you want when I come back with the coffee."

Being left alone with his thoughts was almost as painful as his headache. He didn't want to deal with all the shit he was supposed to forget. The killing of Elliot Dale was just the starkest reminder of the whole sorted mess. Why couldn't he let it go? Why was he still having nightmares about vultures? And how did he stop them?

The smell of coffee pulled him back and he was grateful to Pete for coming. The first rush of caffeine landed like a stone in his empty stomach, but the pain in his head began to ease as he slowly finished it off. Pete said nothing as he slumped down in his chair, slurping a few sips of coffee now and again and watching him.

"Want to give me the long version?" He finally asked. "Or are you gonna keep running away from what's bothering you?"

"I'm thinking about it."

"You forget how well I know you? You talk a man's ear off about all kinds of shit, but if something's bothering you, you become a damn mute," Pete laughed. "You've always been too hard on yourself, kid, but you've always done the right thing, under some pretty horrific conditions. I'm guessin' you did the right thing in that swamp too, you just don't want to give yourself credit for it."

"Not sure that's true," he said quietly.

"You believe you should have stopped a killing," Pete said. "Was he a good guy?

"No, he wasn't, but I didn't want him killed, especially like that."

"Then lay it out for me," Pete said firmly. "What would have happened if you had stopped that man from being butchered? Would you have lived? Would your partner?"

"Probably not."

"Was that man's life worth your own or Callen's?" He asked softly. "And if you'd both been killed, what would have happened with the mission? What would the consequences have been? Who else would have suffered if you had failed to do your job?"

"I don't even want to think about that," Deeks said, as he ran his hands down over his face and blew out his breath as the scope of what the traitors had planned flooded his mind.

"Deeks…you're the best undercover I've ever known," he said. "You were holding the line out there and I think you know that. Things happen on ops you can't control, and you've suffered while out there before, but you've always done your job, and saved people doing it. Don't give it up now out of regret over something you had to let happen in order to survive."

"It's hard not to think that I should've done something to stop it," he insisted.

"Then think about Kensi," Pete said. "You're getting married. Was that man's life worth Kensi's happiness? Think what your death would have done to her."

"That's a little close to home."

"You are home, brother," Pete said. "Let yourself enjoy that fact. We don't go out there to get ourselves killed. We go out there to spoil some asshole's warped plans. I'm pretty sure you did that. Hell, for all I know, you saved the whole damn country."

"Yeah sure…that's what happened," Deeks said, finally allowing himself to smile.

"Max bought a box of donuts," Pete said. "You want one?"

"Sure," he said as he reached for his phone. "Save one for Kensi. She might forgive me for storming off last night, but if she found out I didn't save her a donut, there will be hell to pay."

…

…


	25. Chapter 25

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 25_

…

He came out of the tiny shower and vigorously rubbed himself down, burying his face in the damp towel before sliding it over his head and gingerly drying his hair. His head still pulsed with dull pain and the coffee and two glazed donuts sat heavily in his stomach, but at least he felt somewhat human after the shower. He dropped the towel down around his neck and closed his eyes, not wanting to see how puffy and bloodshot they were in the bathroom mirror, but eventually he opened them and began to assess the cuts and bruises still visible on his face. There was still a prominent scar under his eye where Weston Maddox had struck him with the butt of his knife, and the section of hair the doctors had shaved had yet to grow all the way out to cover the healing cut above his temple. His ribs didn't cause him acute pain, but they remained sore and tender to the touch, which he should have remembered, flinching now as he examined the faded grey green bruises along his left side. A flashing image of the SUV slamming into him made him jerk as if being hit and he blew out his breath to ease the sudden throb of pain it brought. The physical scars were nothing new, he was used to getting them and they would soon fade. It was the confusing mish-mash of memories and emotions that were causing him to consider what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

He hung his head, gripping the edge of the sink as he once again went over all the things Pete had said to him. His old friend had been honest and straightforward as he'd always been, and right about everything. He knew that his reasoning about the consequences was true, but his own perspective was different, and Pete didn't know everything. The bloody death of Elliot Dale was something he couldn't forget no matter how much he wanted to, because he had seen it coming. He and Callen both had. They knew Guidry wasn't the kind of man to let Elliot's father-in-law, Doc Mouton, get away with what had been done to him on that boat, but it was when they'd alerted the man to Eliot's betrayal of The Brotherhood by spying on him with General Rasmussen, that the man's fate had been sealed. Deeks remembered his weak attempt to save him and the cold shock he felt when he failed. The numbing violence that followed had chilled his soul so deeply he wasn't sure if he'd ever be free of it. He'd been a vulture that day, somehow complicit in Guidry's brutality because he had stood silent and watched a man butchered.

"Sonofabitch," whispering the word as his mind filled with images of the bloody aftermath.

Just having Guidry's name in his head was deeply disturbing and painful even after all the time that had past. That sick bastard had cared for Jimmy Hale, an alias so distasteful to him he'd done everything he could think of to banish it from his memory. Nothing had worked. He no longer could distinguish between Guidry and the violent thug that was Jimmy Hale. It was his alias that had enabled him to remain mute while that sick bastard had flayed a man to death. It was Jimmy Hale he had clung to, his own mind blank and unable to function as he allowed a monster to unleash the terrible darkness of his depraved soul. Jimmy Hale had saved him and Callen that day and it made him sick. He suddenly backhanded the water glass off the sink, shaking as it shattered against the shower door, the sharp pieces littering the linoleum.

"Fuck."

He brought the towel up and covered his face, cursing softly as his heart pounded in his ears, making his headache scream. He sensed someone's presence and he felt the sudden urge to hit whoever was there, and that scared him.

"Get the fuck out," he said, his voice muffled by the towel.

"Not happening, Deeks."

"Callen?" He said, letting the towel drop. "How'd you know to come here?"

"Kensi called me last night, after she'd talked to Hetty," he answered. "I went over to see her and we had a long talk."

"So…she doesn't want to see me?"

"She does, but she thinks we should talk first," he replied.

"Is she pissed at me?"

"Not anymore. Just concerned."

"About?"

"I didn't come here to play games," Callen said seriously, his eyes dark and intense. "And neither did you, brother. You're the one who's angry…and we both know why."

"Yeah…what the fuck do you know…brother?"

"That Jimmy Hale isn't gone yet…and he needs to be," Callen said. "Can't you hear it Deeks? Couldn't you hear his voice coming out of your mouth just now?"

"Fuck!"

"We have to go back there," Callen said without emotion. "That swamp is the place Jimmy Hale became a part of you, and we need to go back there and deal with that."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Deeks practically screamed in his face. "I hate that place…"

"Yeah…but you hate Jimmy Hale more," Callen said and took a step toward him.

That one step sparked such a visceral reaction Deeks had no time to stop himself, slugging Callen hard in the face. He stumbled back and Deeks rushed him, tackling him onto the bed and hitting him again before he was able to strike back. A solid punch in his sore ribs took some of the air out of his attack, the second one left him gasping for air. He heard the shout behind him, but his head felt as if it had exploded, and he could do nothing as strong hands pulled him off of his brother and held his arms back.

"Deeks! Stop, man. Stop."

Pete's voice was urgent and commanding and he finally slumped back against him, his eyes squeezed shut against what he had done.

"You okay, Callen?" Pete asked.

"Yeah…let him go," he replied. "I hurt him more than he hurt me."

"You haven't looked in the mirror, man," Pete said, huffing out a laugh. "Now, one of you want to tell me what happened to make you wanna beat the shit outa each other?"

"No," both men said in unison.

"Okay. Have it your way. A fresh pot of coffee's on downstairs when you're ready," Pete said. "Just don't make me come back up here. I'm getting too old to run up a flight of stairs to pull two idiots apart."

"Okay, old man," Deeks said sheepishly.

Pete closed the door behind him when he left and Callen brushed by Deeks to go into the bathroom, tenderly touching his soon to be black eye. He grabbed a towel and wet the corner, gently wiping away the blood from his cut lip. Deeks watched him, his anger replaced by a sick feeling in his stomach.

"G…"

"You just made my point, brother," Callen said softly, turning to look at him. "What just happened wasn't you."

"I know, and it scares the hell out of me," he said and turned away.

He took his clothes from the hook by the window and slowly got dressed, sadness dragging at him. Callen let him be, but the distance between them hurt, and he silently castigated himself for losing control to an alias he thought he had left behind in the swamps of Louisiana.

"You never told me what you and Kensi talked about," He said as a way to bridge the gap between them.

"I told her about Jimmy Hale," he replied, and Deeks felt a flash of white-hot anger.

"Dammit G…you had no right," He choked out.

"She has a right to know, Deeks," he replied earnestly. "You're going to marry her. You know you won't be able to keep that alias from coming between you if you don't deal with it before the wedding."

"What did she say?" He finally asked when his anger dimmed.

"She's the one who suggested we go back to Louisiana."

"Seriously?"

"She loves you, Deeks," he said. "And she knows you're still having trouble over everything that happened. When I told her about Jimmy Hale she almost cried. That's not who you are and I know it's not who you want to be, especially around her. Let's go back and deal with it."

"Do you think it will help?" He asked, choking out the words as he tried to come to terms with what a trip like that would mean.

"We'll stay till it does," he replied.

"Just us?"

"No. Joe wants to come. Says he needs to thank the Toussaints," Callen replied. "Roy offered to meet us at the airport and be our guide. Says we'd get lost without him and then he'd have to go in anyway to find our sorry asses."

"So…just the three of us then, and Roy," he said, trying to let his mind adjust to the idea.

"Hetty's on board with the idea," Callen said. "Said she has a friend who can offer us a private jet for the flight."

"That happened fast. How long you been planning this?" Deeks said, feeling as if he was being handled.

"It was arranged last night, Deeks, while you were sleeping it off," Callen said firmly. "Don't get defensive. We're trying to help you."

"Yeah, right," Deeks replied, unable to keep from sounding surly.

He saw Callen's face soften into sadness and he recognized the persistent itch of Jimmy Hale in the pit of his stomach.

"I need coffee. You coming?" Callen finally said and quickly strode from the room and down the stairs.

Callen's sudden absence almost had a physical impact on him. He felt empty, their connection forged when they were surrounded by enemies now seeming fragile and that hit him hard. They had become true brothers during the mission and he knew Callen would never do anything to hurt him, but he felt a tingling of dread when he thought about going back. Facing who he had become in that foul swamp was not something he really wanted to do, but recognized it was something he had to do, for Kensi and for their future.

"You're tougher than this, buddy," he whispered to himself.

He walked slowly down the stairs and stopped at the bottom when he saw Kensi sitting at the bar holding a donut. She turned to look at him, her expression hopeful and her eyes warm with a glaze of tears.

"Hey," unable to think of anything else to say.

"You okay?" She asked. "Callen said he hit you."

"I hit him first," he replied with a slight grin.

"I can see that," she said. "I saved you a donut."

"Just coffee is fine," he said softly, looking over at Callen as he talked on the phone, studiously ignoring him.

"I'm coming, Deeks," Kensi said, her voice as strong as her determination.

"Kens…"

"I'm your partner and I'm coming with you," she said again, and he suddenly felt relieved.

"Good. I'd actually like that," he said as Max shoved a mug of coffee across the bar.

He stepped up to her and she reached out to caress his cheek. He leaned over and kissed her and his whole body relaxed, the tension easing just because of her touch.

"I brought your go-bag," she said softly.

"Wait. We're leaving right now?" He asked, feeling the rush of uncertainty once again.

"Jet's being fueled up right now at the Santa Monica Airport," Callen said, the look on his face making Deeks realize he wasn't going to be able to duck this.

"Joe's meeting us there," Kensi said.

"And Elan?" He asked.

"He decided to stay and work on getting Joe's house ready to sell," she replied.

"What's the real reason he's not coming?" Deeks asked, noticing a reluctance to answer in both of them.

"He doesn't think you should go back," Callen said. "Thinks it'll be too hard on you."

"What about you? Or does he think you're tougher than me?" Deeks said, resenting the implied insult.

"Maybe not tougher, but I am more experienced," Callen said with a short laugh.

"That's because you're a lot older," Deeks said, allowing a grin to lighten his words.

"To be honest…I think watching what all of us went through on that mission was a lot harder on Elan than he's let on," Callen said quietly. "He was frustrated that he couldn't help and I think he feels guilty about that."

"Yeah… we've talked about it a little," Deeks acknowledged.

"I spoke with George this morning," Kensi said, running her hand down his arm and entwining her fingers with his. "He believes it will help."

"Good to know," he replied, finally accepting the reality of the whole thing. "Hope the weather's cooler than the last time. Where we staying?"

"Not sure yet, but Roy's already working on what to serve for dinner," Callen said with his signature smirk. "Told him no grits."

"So this is really happening," Deeks said, and reached for the mug of coffee.

He stared into the steaming black coffee, his hand trembling slightly as he worked to steel himself to the fact that he would be in Louisiana by dinner time. He had no idea what it would be like to walk in the same footsteps he'd walked as Jimmy Hale. For all he knew, men still loyal to Guidry and The Brotherhood might be living in the camps. If they were, how would they react to seeing Jimmy and Jake Hale, the two men responsible for his downfall. Maybe they had no idea the two of them were really federal agents, but if they had found out somehow, then all of them would be walking into a dangerous situation.

"You bringing some fire power?" He asked Callen.

"It's being delivered right to the plane," he replied.

"You boys expecting trouble?" Pete asked. "You need backup, Marty?"

"You're retired. Stay that way," Deeks said, settling down now that the whole trip felt like an op.

He guzzled down the rest of his coffee and when he set the mug down he saw Max staring at him. "Take care, kid. Let us know how things turn out."

"Thanks. I will."

Pete gave him a quick hug before he walked out the back door to the parking lot. He didn't think he would ever come back here. Too many memories, and he had enough of those.

…

Kensi had a tight grip on his hand as the small jet pierced the thick grey clouds and began its descent. The ground appeared out of the mist and he stared down at the vast green checkerboard landscape of fields and tight clusters of houses making up the small towns in what Roy called Cajun country. They were flying under heavy cloud cover now, but up ahead he could see a strip of blue where the storm ended. He'd never been in this part of Louisiana, and he was grateful they were flying into Lafayette instead of New Orleans. He wasn't in the mood to recreate his first time here. This wasn't a black ops mission this time, and for some reason he began to feel like a tourist, which was dangerous if any members of The Brotherhood were still around.

None of them had talked much during the flight, but he glanced over at Joe, knowing how difficult it must be for him. Kensi seemed to sense his unease and snuggled up against him. Having her with him changed things, and he turned to kiss her softly on the forehead.

"What was that for?" She asked.

"For coming."

"No way I was letting you come without me," she said.

Her tone of voice made him smile. She wasn't viewing this as a vacation and she hadn't come as a tourist. She came to back him up if anyone even blinked an eye at him.

"I'm glad you came," he said into the soft curls of her hair. "Keeps me from thinking about all the shit I went through here."

"We'll face it all together, baby," she whispered, pulling his face to hers and kissing him sweetly on the cheek.

"This is the airport I flew into," Joe said calmly. "God, it was hot. Like being in a sauna."

"I don't think I ever sweated so much in my life," Callen said.

"You smelled too," Deeks reminded him.

"Not as bad as you, brother," Callen said with a smirk.

"Supposed to be in the seventies in December." Kensi said.

"Thanks, Wikipedia," Callen said.

As light as the conversation was, Deeks still felt the uneasiness they were all trying to hide, and he turned to look out the window. The lights of Lafayette had just started to come on as the plane approached the airport, but it was the swampy ground to the east that caused his throat to tighten and his heart to race. It was dark and foreboding and he closed his eyes as painful memories assaulted him.

"Hey," Kensi said. "I'm here, baby. Talk to me."

"Not ready, Kens," he replied, blowing out his breath as he waited for the wheels to touch down.

"I don't think I can do this," Joe's choked voice pulling him out of his own grim thoughts.

Kensi reached across the aisle and gripped Joe's hand and he clung to her as the plane taxied to a stop at the terminal. Now that they were on the ground, Callen couldn't seem to wait to get off the plane, but Joe hung back, his face rigid and his eyes full of doubt and remembered pain.

"Come on Joe," Kensi said.

"Please tell me I don't have to face the Doucets again," he replied, looking at Deeks. "It was hard enough seeing them at the ranch when I was on pain pills."

"Callen didn't say anything about meeting up with the Doucets," Deeks said. "Roy's going to pick us up and take us to the hotel. In the morning we'll head up to the Toussaint place."

Joe nodded and seemed to shake off his uncertainty, picking up his go bag and letting Kensi lead him to the door. The tarmac was wet from the recent storm, and a cool breeze whipped around them as they made their way toward the small glassed-in arrival lounge. Deeks was surprised to see the room was crowded, but assumed they were waiting for another flight. Callen suddenly stopped as the door opened and Roy stepped out.

"Glad y'all made it," his soft drawl so familiar. "But, I gotta warn ya. I told Gus Doucet you were comin' and damn it ta hell if he didn't tell the rest of 'em. Now the whole damn family is here to greet ya."

Joe looked stricken by the news and let go of Kensi's hand, looking as if he wanted to run. Deeks and Callen both got to him as he turned back toward the plane, each one taking an arm and trying to still his panic. It was the sound of Cajun that made them stop and they were suddenly surrounded by Doucets of all shapes and sizes. They spoke softly to one another as they reached out to Joe, some patting him gently on the back or squeezing his arm. When the group parted for a large older woman in a flowered dress, Joe's eyes filled with tears as she embraced him.

"It so good ta see ya again, mon fils."

Deeks stumbled back, stunned by the sick feeling that filled him as that familiar term of endearment echoed with stark memories. He'd hoped to never hear it again and wondered why he had ever let Callen talk him into coming back here. Guidry might be dead, but the shadowy remnants of his dark spirit wrapped around him nonetheless, leaving him cold and decidedly uneasy.

…

…


	26. Chapter 26

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 26_

…

He sat silently in the back seat with Callen, listening to Roy tell Kensi the history of the entire Doucet family and how they were related to his own. She appeared enthralled by the stories and Roy seemed to love her enthusiasm, making a backhanded reference to Deeks' own lack of interest the first time they'd met. He ignored the remark and stared out at the passing landscape, but it was dusk and it was hard to make out too much, not that he was really interested in that either. The Doucets had insisted they come to dinner at their mama's house on the other side of Bayou Teche, and they wouldn't take no for an answer, which was why they were following a caravan of mostly trucks along a two-lane road outside of the small town of St. Martinville.

"Ain't far now," Roy said. "See the lights hangin' from the oak trees along the bayou?"

Dusk had edged into an indigo sky and Deeks was fighting emerging memories of all the tense nights in the camps. He rolled the window down searching for air and when Callen reached over and pounded a fist on his knee, he jerked and cursed.

"It's just dinner, brother," Callen said.

"Yeah…no." He mumbled as they turned down a long gravel driveway.

There were several long white wooden houses on the property, dwarfed by huge old oak trees dripping with low hanging grey tendrils of moss. Strings of light bulbs draped from their massive limbs lighting up the wide swath of lawn that surrounded the small houses and stretched down to the bank of Bayou Teche. Multi-colored Christmas lights twinkled along the eaves of all the houses, and an inflated plastic snowman sat sagging in the yard, making Deeks shake his head at the incongruity of it. Roving groups of children ran screaming as they played a rough game of tag around the trunks of the trees, slowing only when the trucks began to park on the lawn and they ran to greet their relatives. Deeks saw Joe step out of a red Chevy pickup, and he could feel his pain from afar as if it were his own.

"Being here is gonna be hard on him," he said.

"None of 'em blame 'im," Roy said as he parked in the weeds at the edge of the lawn. "He's family to all of 'em."

Roy got out and yelled something in Cajun to a little man coming their way, while Callen headed for Joe. Kensi opened his door and held out her hand, and he nodded and got out, grateful to have her with him.

"I love you," she whispered, gripping his hand tightly in hers as they walked around the back of the car.

Before he could echo the sentiment, a small man grabbed his arm and he tensed, turning to confront whoever it was with a closed fist.

"Whoa dere, boy," the man said, raising his hands as he took a step back, squinting up at him through thick glasses. "Don't go gettin' your hackles up now. Name's Louie Doucet. Oscar was my nephew."

The little man was wiry and dressed in denim and wearing cowboy boots. Why he had singled him out, he had no idea. He looked harmless, but Deeks could tell he was a tough old man.

"Just wanna ask about Elan Hand. He doing okay?" Louie Doucet asked. "Thought he mighta come along."

"You know Elan?" Deeks asked.

"Met 'im at the hospital when he brought Joe in," he replied. "Helped 'im blow off some steam ridin' a thoroughbred up at Evangeline Downs. Never seen nothin' like it. Rode a big ol' ornery stallion bareback twice round de track like his tail was on fire. Folks still talk about it."

Deeks laughed, the image so familiar and comforting. These people had looked after his brothers and it made him feel safe.

"Elan definitely has a way with horses," Deeks said.

"Full of anger dat day. Hard ta watch, but we all been dere," The little man said slowly. "Tough ta get past da hate for dem sorry bastards after what dey done ta Oscar. Family wants ta thank ya for gettin' justice for 'im. Dis here dinner don't begin ta let y'all know how we feel, but it's a beginnin'."

"We appreciate it," Kensi said with a warm smile.

"Sweet damn, girl. You sure is a pretty one," Louie said with a smile in return. "You hold on ta dis one, bon ami."

"That's the plan," he replied as he pulled Kensi close.

"Elan got himself a girl?" Louie asked, as he walked them under the oaks.

"Yes, but she lives in Paris," Kensi said.

"Always wanted ta go dere," he replied, sounding melancholy. "Don't think it gonna happen so we might as well get on wid de fais do-do."

"What's that?" Deeks asked.

"Y'all call it a party. Come see, boy. T'aint crawfish season, but we got us some gumbo, popcorn shrimp, jambalaya, dirty rice and Molly's étouffée. Hope y'all are hungry."

"Kensi's always hungry," Deeks said, grinning cockily at her and feeling relaxed for the first time.

"Y'all better be. My sister'll pester ya if ya don't eat everything she piles on your plates."

The little man called out something in Cajun and Deeks took a deep breath, trying to separate this place from his nights with The Brotherhood. Louie Doucet grabbed a couple of beers from a young girl and pressed them into their hands and then patted him gently on the arm and walked away. He took a long drink of the cold beer and searched the different groups for Joe and Callen, wondering how it was possible that all these people were related. The older ones sat in lawn chairs around campfires, while a younger group looked to be setting up to play music. He saw a couple of accordions, a violin being pulled from a case and then the melancholy sounds of a harmonica. There were long folding tables laden with food, the smell drifting over and making his stomach growl. He stopped in the middle of it all, watching the kids play and warming to the sounds of laughter and the muted voices of the men speaking with their own peculiar accents, but mostly in Cajun.

"It's nothing like the camps is it?" Callen said from behind him.

"Not even close," Deeks replied.

"Where's Joe?" Kensi asked.

"With Oscar's mom. She's showing him his childhood photos," Callen said.

"Sonofabitch," Deeks said, suddenly worried how Joe might be handling that. "We should be there with him, G."

"They went into that house closest to the bayou," Callen said, the three of them moving quickly down toward the water.

When they were almost to the porch, Deeks could see Roy and Gus Doucet silhouetted against the warm light coming from the windows. They were talking quietly, but moved to greet them as soon as they reached the porch.

"Is Joe in there?" Deeks asked, vibrating with a sudden surge of adrenaline.

"Yeah. Mama and her sisters are in dere with 'im," Gus said. "All dem photos got to 'im a bit."

"I need to see him," Deeks said as he stepped up on the porch, headed for the door.

"Dey prayin' for 'im right now," Gus said, taking Deeks arm to stop him. "He needs de comfort, so give 'em a minute."

"They're trying to get him to believe they really don't blame him," Roy said.

"Dat boy needs ta lay his guilt down," Gus said softly. "And dis is the place ta do it, and dem women are helpin' him do dat, so leave 'em be, boy."

"He's right, Deeks," Kensi said softly. "We've all talked to him, but I know he still carries a lot of guilt about Oscar."

"When did he talk to you about it?" He asked.

"When he came to see you in the hospital," she replied quietly. "I was blaming myself for not stopping Maddox from hurting you and we had a conversation about guilt. He shared how hard it was to be talked out of it."

"Hard ta convince your own self about somethin' so hard ta figure out," Gus said. "It's all feelins. He gotta give it ta God, or let de women in dere ease it out of 'im with love and prayer."

"And you believe that's possible?" Callen asked, obviously doubting the man's words.

"Hell, son. I seen stranger things happen," Gus said, huffing out a short laugh. "It's kinda like faith. C'aint see it, but ya feel it, whether it's in God or in yourself or your brother here. You had ta believe in something ta survive Guidry and The Brotherhood. Y'all might not believe or have faith in God, but ya had faith in yourselves and in each other and ya counted on it ta get ya through. C'aint touch it or hold it in your hand, but ya know it exists."

"Joe told me he prayed out there. Prayers his mother taught him," Deeks said. "Then the Toussaints found him."

Callen looked away and Deeks knew he didn't buy the connection, and he wasn't sure he did himself, but whatever had caused Joe to stumble on that kind family, he was grateful. Blind luck or blind faith. It didn't matter. Joe survived.

He heard the squeak of the screen door and turned to see Joe coming out, wiping at his eyes. "Hey. Didn't know you were here."

"You okay?" Deeks asked him softly.

Joe walked between them and down toward the water. Deeks followed with Callen right behind him. They all stopped and stared down at the slow moving water, so dark and full of memories. Deeks squeezed his shoulder and then stood silently beside him, Callen doing the same on the other side.

"My mom used to sing to us when we were little," Joe said. "One of those songs came to mind while those ladies were praying for me. It's called 'Down by the Riverside'. Ever heard it?"

Deeks had, but neither one said anything as Joe didn't seem to need an answer.

"Lyrics struck me. 'I'm gonna lay down my heavy load…down by the riverside…ain't gonna study war no more'."

He bowed his head and Callen shot a quizzical look over at Deeks as he gripped Joe's shoulder, needing to comfort him as he struggled with his emotions.

"I know that sounds kind of corny, but I'm leaving it all right here. All the memories. All the screams…everything," Joe said as tears streaked down his cheeks. "Then I'm taking my family back to Wyoming and never picking up another gun or pretending to be someone I'm not…ever again. I need to find out who I really am, or used to be. I think I'll find peace then."

"You want to skip tomorrow and head on back in the morning?" Callen asked.

"No. I need to thank the Toussaints," he replied, wiping roughly at his eyes. "I get to see my baby girl born because of them…and because of you two."

He turned and pulled both of them into a hug. "I don't remember if I ever thanked you…"

"Don't have to, dumbass," Deeks said. "All you have to do is show up at my wedding in a tux. That's all the thanks I need."

"Since I'm not getting married, I'll take a steak dinner at Mastro's," Callen said, and they broke apart laughing.

"Done," Joe said.

"You okay?" Deeks asked.

"Yeah, I am. Oscar's mom forgave me," he said softly. "She said Oscar's death wasn't my fault, but she forgave me for whatever I was feeling guilty about."

"Did it help?" Deeks asked.

"Not sure why, but yeah…I feel lighter somehow," he replied. "And I'm hungry."

"Not sure how those two things go together, but my mouth's been watering since we got here," Callen said.

Deeks looked up to see Kensi walking toward them, taking her time so as not to interrupt. She looked hopeful and once again he was struck by how her presence changed everything for him. It was if she had the power to keep all his darkest memories at bay. She was his sunshine, and as mushy as that sounded even to him, she made this place tolerable.

"That table full of food calling to you?" He asked when she reached them.

"A little bit. Does smell pretty fantastic," she said.

"Definitely have some étouffée," Joe said. "It was Oscar's favorite."

Deeks threw an arm over his shoulder and they all walked back toward the festivities. There was a line for the food, but everyone stepped aside and motioned for all of them to cut in ahead, which Kensi did eagerly. By the time they were through the line, Deeks' plate was piled high with food he didn't recognize, except for the cornbread, which he gave to Kensi. Thankfully there were no grits in sight or roasted pork either, and he wondered if Roy had mentioned their aversion to both. They were ushered to a picnic table close by one of the campfires just as the Cajun band began to play. The music was lively and there were whoops of encouragement and plenty of laughter as the Doucet family gathered around. A big piece of plywood had been laid out in front of the band and a few couples were dancing, their feet moving rapidly, while their upper bodies appeared to be floating as if unattached. Deeks smiled as Kensi laughed, taking her hand and kissing her fingers, tasting the spices that seem to hang in the air around them. Callen caught his eye and a silent understanding passed between them. They shared the same memories, but tonight was different and he let the shadows of the past fade.

…

…

The air was cool and humid after the morning rain, the clouds dense and oppressive as they hung low above them. His mood had been sour since he woke up and the roadside park outside of Butte La Rose brought a rush of unwanted memories. The boat ramp left him with flashes of their first meeting with Tino and Henry Moreau and being blindfolded and thrown into the bottom of a boat just like the one waiting to go in the water. Listening to the groups of men speaking Cajun, most of them in jeans and gimme caps, made his heart beat a little faster and his mouth go dry. Even though these men were mostly Doucets, he couldn't relax, his hands clinching into fists whenever one of them got close. Callen's expression was guarded and Kensi was watchful as well.

"Y'all ready ta go?" Roy asked as he came up behind them as they stood together staring out at the brown, slow moving water.

"Do we have to go by boat?" Deeks asked.

"Bayou La Rose here is the fastest way," Roy replied. "If we take the dirt road, we'll have to slog through the swamp for three, maybe four miles ta get to the Toussaint place. Didn't think you'd want ta do that again."

"You're right. We don't," Callen snapped.

"Little short tempered ain't ya?" Roy said, looking steadily at Callen.

"He's got a right, dickwad," Deeks said, paling as he realized it was Jimmy Hale who had spoken. "Sonofabitch."

He turned and quickly walked away, brushing aside Kensi's hand as she reached out to him. The smell of the swamp was irritating, but to feel Jimmy Hale scratching at his insides scared the shit out of him. It was as if he were at war with himself, and Jimmy was winning. He was practically vibrating when he felt someone's hand on his back and he flinched, turning to confront them.

"Just me, brother," Joe said softly.

"And me," Callen echoed.

"I shouldn't have come," he replied.

"This is why you needed to," Callen said.

"You're not Jimmy Hale, Marty," Joe said. "You're not a hard ass militiaman with The Brotherhood. You're just my dumbass brother, and a federal agent who came to this stinking swamp to save my life."

"And you're not Guidry's son," Callen said emphatically, gripping Deeks' arm hard.

"I know all that…and if I do then why does Jimmy Hale still have a hold on me?" Deeks asked, hoping one of them had an answer.

"Maybe you're still in survival mode," Kensi said as she stepped between Callen and Joe. "Especially here, and after everything that happened with Maddox and with Donovan Pohl, it's not surprising."

"You been taking psyche classes?" Deeks asked, smiling at her.

"You forget how long I've been your partner," She replied. "I know you, Deeks. For some reason, deep down, you can't believe this is over yet. You're still in battle mode."

"I'd marry her, brother. She's smarter than you," Joe said.

"Hell. She's smarter than all of us," Callen said with a smirk. "Otherwise we wouldn't even be here."

"Come on, baby. Take me on a boat ride. We'll face whatever comes at us together," she said firmly and took his hand.

"You armed?" He asked, and all three of them nodded. "So then…we're all in battle mode."

They turned toward the group of men waiting with Roy Broussard, as he was known among these people. Deeks found himself searching for familiar faces among them, wondering if some of The Brotherhood or their family members might be tracking them. Roy was watching him in turn and he realized the man knew what he was thinking and shook his head, which he gratefully acknowledged.

"Y'all ready ta get on with this?" The retired Navy SEAL asked.

"Sorry about the dickwad comment," Deeks said with a cocky grin.

"Takes one ta know one, kid."

"Fair enough."

The faded red metal boat was already in the water and Gus Doucet sat waiting at the throttle of the outboard motor. Deeks helped Kensi in and then stepped in to sit beside her in the front, while Callen and Roy settled in behind them. Joe joined two of Oscar Doucet's brothers and a couple of cousins in another boat and it wasn't hard to see that they were all armed, their rifles prominent as they glided past and led the way down the bayou. Deeks looked quickly back at Roy with a questioning look as Gus guided their boat away from the dock and followed. Almost immediately the boats turned down a narrow bayou and passed under a bridge, moving swiftly under a dark canopy of overhanging trees that lined the waterway.

"Guns are in case the gators get feisty," Roy leaned over to say.

Deeks mind suddenly filled with images of Saint being slowly devoured by one, his screams still haunting in remembrance. But it was Guidry offering himself as a sacrifice to them that he couldn't shake as the loud drone of the outboard accompanied his flashback. He struggled to make his mind go blank, to concentrate on his surroundings, so he gripped Kensi's hand and as she edged closer to him he turned to watch her. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail revealing her strong jaw. A strand of dark hair moved against her cheek and he released her hand to reach up and tuck it gently behind her ear. When she looked at him, her eyes were soft and full of encouragement, and he took her hand once again and lifted it to his lips.

"I'm so glad you here," he whispered. "You make all the difference."

"Where else would I be?"

"I don't know…shopping for wedding things or honeymoon outfits," he said, smiling softly at her.

"Nell and Diane are taking care of the wedding arrangements," she said quietly. "And we haven't even discussed where we're going on our honeymoon, so I would have no idea what to buy."

"Lingerie?"

"Not surprised that would be on the top of your list," she said, shaking her head and grinning as she tucked herself closer to him.

"Maybe we could shop for that together when we get home," he said cockily. "You could model…"

"You do know we can hear you back here, right?" Callen leaned forward to say. "I don't think you want to make an appearance in old Roy's dreams."

"I might not mind Kensi in my dreams, but Deeks? Now that would be a nightmare," Roy said, slapping Deeks lightly on the back.

Conversation lapsed after that, and Deeks stared out at the dense growth that closed in on them as they wound their way along the meandering bayou. The monotonous sound of the outboard became numbing and he tried to keep his mind occupied by thinking about where they might go on their honeymoon. One thing was certain, it wouldn't be anywhere close to a swamp.

"Heads up," Gus shouted out. "Someone on de dock ahead."

Shotguns and rifles began to appear out in the open in the boat carrying Joe, its motor cutting back as it slowly approached the dock. A single figure wearing a hoodie stood silently watching them.

"He's unarmed," Deeks yelled.

"You're Sebastian," Joe called out. "I remember you."

Joe scrambled up on the dock as soon as he was able, offering his hand to the young man.

"Papa-T sent me to meet y'all," the teenager said, looking warily at all the armed men. "Is trouble comin?"

"Not unless you mean my brothers," Joe replied, smiling at the boy.

"You look different. Better," Sebastian said. "Heard you lived, but that's all. Gramma'll be happy to see you. Her and Papa-T been praying for you every day."

Joe looked stunned by that and took a step back as Deeks and Kensi stepped onto the dock. The boy stared at Deeks as if he wasn't quite sure who he was. His hair was shorter and a hell of a lot cleaner, and he was sure he smelled a lot better too, so he wasn't surprised.

"I'm Marty Deeks," he said. "And this is Kensi, my fiancé."

"I'm Callen, the other troublesome brother."

"You're the ones who took down The Brotherhood," Sebastian finally said, looking slightly awestruck. "Everybody still talks about it round here. Nobody knows who you are, 'cept us, and we don't tell anybody your real names. But the Hale brothers are famous."

…

…


	27. Chapter 27

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 27_

…

Deeks had been stunned when Sebastian had told them the Hale brothers were famous. Calling them infamous somehow seemed more appropriate, but it was Callen's reaction that made him focus. He had grabbed Roy's arm and shoved him toward the trees along the bayou, and he looked pissed. Deeks quickly followed, catching sight of them just as they disappeared behind a large oak. When he got to them Callen had Roy shoved up against the trunk, his forearm pressed into his chest. Roy had his arms up as if in surrender, but his eyes were dangerously dark.

"G! Let him go."

"Shut up, Deeks," he growled. "This secretive asshole forgot to tell us a few things. Didn't you, Roy?"

"I prefer dickwad to asshole, since you're the one representing that particularly descriptive nickname at the moment," Roy replied gruffly. "Now get the fuck off me before I tear ya a new one."

Callen pushed away from him, but it wasn't hard to see he was roaring mad. "Tell me what you know."

"What's going on, Roy?" Deeks asked, stepping up beside Callen.

"It's not what you think," he said.

"You have no idea what I think," Callen snapped. "What I do know is you withheld information that we might be in danger."

"What's he talking about?" Deeks asked, taking a step toward Roy.

"The guns aren't just for feisty gators," Roy said quietly. "Got intel that some of Tino's relatives and a couple of Henry Moreau's cousins were looking ta take out the Hale brothers if they ever showed up here again."

"They think Jimmy and Jake are traitors…not Feds. Right?" Callen said.

"Dammit, Roy. I've got Kensi with me," Deeks said, his voice strangled with white-hot anger.

"And I'm guessing she can take care of herself," he replied, which didn't mollify Deeks at all.

"That's not the point," he snapped back.

"We're dealing with the situation, okay?" Roy said.

"And who the hell would that be?" Callen asked. "A bunch of weekend warriors with squirrel rifles?"

"Some of these boys are ex-military, one's the parish deputy sheriff, and the others are tougher'n shit," Roy said. "One wrestles gators for a livin'."

"Yeah? Well gators don't carry guns," Callen sputtered out, making Deeks laugh.

"Really?" Deeks said with a grin. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"He should have told us," Callen said, finally calming down.

"You're right. I should have, but I didn't want it to be a distraction from what y'all came here ta do," Roy said softly. "Ya need ta leave Jimmy and Jake here where they reared their ugly heads. And I wanted to make sure y'all could do that."

"Jake was the ugly one," Deeks said.

"And Jimmy's the one won't let loose of ya, Deeks," Roy snapped back. "I was afraid if I told ya, Jimmy would roar back ta life, and I didn't want to see that happen."

"Seriously? You're worried about me?" He asked.

"I been there kid, and I'm pretty sure Callen here has too," Roy replied. "Some aliases are powerful. It's why they work, and it's probably why you're still alive. You had to go deep to fool Guidry, so deep he never did see the real you. Don't follow 'im down that road, kid. Be Marty Deeks...whoever the hell that is. Not sure I know who you really are myself."

"He's a dumbass who makes a joke about everything," Joe said as he and Kensi walked up to join them.

"He thinks he's very sexy," Kensi said, smiling at him.

"Loves his hair," Callen added.

"And a horse named Sheila," Joe continued.

"And he's ticklish," Kensi said.

"I'll take your word on that last one, and about him being sexy," Roy said with a soft laugh.

"So…guess we'll be watching each other's backs from here on out," Callen said.

"Listen y'all. The men who volunteered for this were friends or relatives of Oscar's," Roy said quietly. "They also know Tino's family and the Moreau cousins on sight. You don't. Trust me when I tell y'all…they'll have your backs and so will I."

"Me too," Gus said from behind them. "Dese here men loved my kid brother. Dere be hell ta pay if anybody go after Joe and y'all. Joe family now, so y'all is family too, and we protect our own."

"Thank you, Gus," Kensi said. "We all appreciate knowing that."

"Sebastian said Pastor T and his wife waitin' at de church," Gus informed them. "Few boys already scopin' out the trail."

"Guess we should get this over with then," Joe said, and turned to see Sebastian waiting for them. "Lead the way."

"Good to see you walking so good," the young man said as he started out across the yard toward the house and the dirt path that led to the church.

Deeks hesitated to follow and Kensi bumped against him, making him look at her. "You coming?"

"Yeah…just remembering the last time we came this way," he replied as he slowly followed the others. "I was so afraid we wouldn't find him…and afraid if we did…"

"That he'd be dead," Kensi said softly.

"These people took care of him. They risked their lives and they didn't even know him," he said. "They were threatened and never said a word about where they'd hidden him. How do I thank them for doing that, Kens?"

"I've never known you to be at a loss for words, Deeks," she laughed. "You'll think of something, or you can just do what George does…give them a big hug."

"Good idea," Deeks said, taking her hand as he glanced back at the two Doucets trailing them.

Memories flooded into his mind as he walked along the same track they're followed all those months ago. They were among friends this time and although it was a lot cooler, the air was still oppressive under the roiling clouds. The thick undergrowth seemed to close in around them and the tree branches hung low over the trail. His heart began to race until he saw Joe laugh at something Sebastian said. His brother was alive, and he blew out his breath, the sudden relief surprising him. The trail curved around a large oak, and he saw the familiar little church and stopped as voices coming from inside filled the air, singing an old hymn he'd never heard before. The chorus gave him chills, the words touching him deeply. They sang about finding peace in the valley and he desperately longed to experience that feeling. Even the birds stopped to listen and Joe turned back to find him, throwing an arm over his shoulder.

"It's so small," Joe said. "Sebastian said they brought me here in a wheelbarrow."

He seemed amazed by the little church, and Deeks realized he probably didn't remember much about this part of his journey. He'd been delirious when they found him, and was unconscious by the time Elan carried him out.

The doors to the weatherbeaten church swung open and the small congregation began to wander out, talking to one another and smiling. Some looked their way, curious of course, but no one approached them, probably because of all the guns that were visible. Families began to walk away down different paths that led into the forest, their voices fading until the air was silent once again.

"Come on, brother," Joe said and headed for the steps with Sebastian leading the way.

"Kind of peaceful now," Callen said as he came up beside him.

"Nobody's shooting at us at least," Deeks said.

"Come on you two," Kensi said. "I want to meet these people."

The inside was smaller than he remembered. There were no birds nesting inside this time, and the windows had been fixed so the kudzu remained outside. The only hint that Christmas was near was several red and green paper garlands draped along the false back panels where Joe had been hidden.

"They're here, Papa T," Sebastian called out, making the old preacher turn, his ebony face wrinkling into a wide smile when he saw Joe.

"Looky here, Iris," he said. "Joe here to see us. You lookin' good, son."

Iris looked thrilled and spread her arms wide for the hug Joe moved quickly to give her. She held onto him for a long time and Deeks could see tears in his brother's eyes when she finally let him go.

"I don't know what to say, except thank you," Joe choked out. "I get to see my baby girl born because of you and your family."

"Give the glory to God, son," the old preacher said. "He led you to us."

"But you took him in, and you didn't have to do that," Deeks said.

"Of course we did, boy," Iris said. "We Christians. God expects us ta be kind ta one another. Jesus say it right there in His Word. 'What ya do unto the least of these you also do unto me'."

"All the same, we're grateful for your kindness," Deeks replied.

"Do we know you, boy?" Augustine Toussaint stared at Deeks as if searching his memory for some clue. It was his wife Iris who recognized him and came slowly toward him, her eyes glistening as her smile grew.

"These are my brothers…Marty Deeks and G Callen," Joe said. "And this is Kensi Blye, Deeks fiancé."

"I knew you was a good man the minute I saw you smile that day," Iris said softly, reaching out to touch Deeks gently on the arm. "You wouldn't have let those men hurt us would ya?"

"No, ma'am, we wouldn't," he replied.

"As I remember it, you was pretty wild that day," Augustine said, eyeing Deeks carefully.

"You sure swore a lot," a young teenager said.

"This is Buford. He's one of their grandson's," Joe said.

"I remember you," Deeks said.

"Is Xavier around?" Joe asked. "We had a long talk while I was here."

"That boy went an quit college and joined the Marines," Iris said with a hint of resignation. "Augustus tried to talk him out of it, but he stubborn…like his daddy."

"He wanted to experience what his father had," Joe said softly.

"We prayin' he comes home," the old pastor said, his eyes weary with sadness.

"We never heard what happened to y'all after you went back to The Brotherhood," Buford said, looking at them hopefully.

"But we heard y'all did what ya promised," Augustine said, seemingly grateful for the distracting turn in the conversation. "Took down The Brotherhood and made this a safer place for the good people here."

"We did our job," Callen said.

"But it took somethin' outa you ta do that," he said with a knowing look, taking a step toward Deeks. "You was full of anger and darkness that day, son. Got a feelin' you still harborin' some of that."

"Just wanted you to know how grateful we are for what you and your family did for Joe," Deeks said, feeling stiff and uncomfortable.

"You come for more than sayin' thank you," Augustine said, his face curious as he stared at Deeks. "God's light reveals darkness, boy. Easy ta see you ain't free of some of that just yet."

Deeks felt defensive and the old man's words stirred something vile deep down inside of him, making him angry with the scrutiny. He turned and walked quickly out of the church, stopping only when Kensi grabbed his arm.

"Let me go, Kens," he pleaded. "Please."

She nodded and he jumped down from the porch and headed out behind the church, his breathing heavy and ragged. He paused to look around and then up into the slow moving gray clouds, the air still and the birds silent as if waiting for something to happen. He felt trapped, unsure what to do or how to erase the deep feeling of dread that weighed him down. He hung his head and closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them and looked up, he realized he was in a graveyard. The sparsely scattered headstones were weatherworn wood, old and pale with age, their etched inscriptions eroded, the names and dates unreadable. There weren't many still standing, but of those that were, some had jars of dying flowers at their base, others plastic ones eerily bright, most tilting wearily among the spreading kudzu. Deeks' eyes eventually came to rest on one grave fresher than the others. It had no marker except for a section of a tumbled down wooden fence that had once circled the small cemetery. His mind drifted back to the day they found Joe, and he wondered if this was the militiaman his brother had shot.

"FBI took his body that day," Augustine said behind him as if he'd read his mind. "Came back ta ask if he had family here. Didn't find none so they allowed us ta bury him here."

"He would have killed you all," Deeks whispered.

"You can't know that, son," he replied, patting him gently on the shoulder as he brushed past. "A man's heart is his own to know."

"Sometimes."

"And sometimes when you let the darkness in, even for a little while, it leaves a stain," Augustus said, turning to watch him. "Some stains don't come out so easy do they?"

"Not if it's been there all along, and you just didn't realize it," he replied, feeling dispirited and uneasy.

"Iris say she saw the good in you from the beginnin'," the old preacher said. "She a wise woman my Iris. She saw the good. Your family does too, so it's there, son. You just have to choose to follow the light in your soul…not get snared by the dark side."

"Seriously? Next you'll be telling me The Force is with me," Deeks said, sounding disrespectful and unkind even to himself. "This isn't Star Wars and I'm not Luke Skywalker."

"Don't know much about the stars or who that fella is you mentioned, but I do know this, boy. You makin' this harder than needs be."

"Really? You don't know me or what I did or saw while I was with The Brotherhood," Deeks said angrily. "Think if you tell me I'm forgiven that'll all go away?"

"You don't know God or his power, and I won't push ya to. But I can tell ya…it ain't me that needs ta forgive you, son," Augustus said softly. "You need to forgive yourself."

Deeks took a step back as the simple truth of the old man's words sunk in. "Not sure I can."

Augustus looked solemn as he came and rested a callused hand on his shoulder, and guided him toward the militiaman's grave. Deeks hesitated as they got closer, not wanting or needing any more reminders of what he had been a part of.

"This man carry his sins to the grave," the old preacher said quietly. "Not for me ta know what those sins was or how God judged him. He made a choice. God give us free will, son, so we all own our sins unless we lay 'em down and walk another path."

"Your path?" Deeks said, shaking his head and turning to go.

"No son. You're own," he replied. "The one you know is right."

Deeks stopped, needing to hear him out.

"You see that storm passin' over?" Augustus asked. "It boilin' dark. Full of angry lightnin' and howlin' wind. Most folks happy ta see it pass on. They don't follow it…stay under them dark clouds full of thunder. They turn away from it and walk toward the sunlight."

The old man stared solemnly into his eyes and Deeks felt his spirits lift as he spoke.

"Turn away from that storm you walked under when you was here, son. Forgive yourself for what ya done and go make your own sunlight with that girl in there. Leave whatever sins you committed behind. Leave 'em right here in this graveyard…with the dead."

Pastor Toussaint left him there and he trembled with the weight of his counsel. He stared at the grave of a man he had known only briefly, but who represented all the evil that had been The Brotherhood. His eyes blurred with sudden tears. Could it be that simple? He looked over the tiny graveyard, drawn to the flowers left in remembrance of lives long lost. The Brotherhood had died months ago, yet he carried its dark ghost with him in the remnant of an alias he hated. He could choose to bury Jimmy Hale here in this peaceful place. He had served his purpose. This was where Jimmy belonged…here among the dead. Looking down on the unmarked grave of the militiaman, he leaned over and spit on the mound of dark earth that covered him.

"Rest in peace Jimmy Hale and take this sonofabitch to hell with you."

He sighed, closing his eyes and blowing out his breath a couple of times before scanning the old cemetery one last time. When he turned to leave he saw Kensi waiting for him and he smiled. She smiled in return and as they moved toward each other he felt a sense of joy, his heart beating faster as he wrapped her in his arms.

"I'm free, Kens," he whispered. "Now, let's go home and get married."

"Don't you want to have Christmas first?" She laughed at his giddiness.

"Yeah…of course," he said and kissed her.

"And at some point, you'll tell me what you and Pastor Toussaint talked about out here."

"What can I say…he helped me see the light," Deeks grinned cockily.

"Deeks…"

"To clarify…we're leaving and Jimmy Hale is staying."

She pulled him tightly to her, breathing warm air against his neck as he held her head gently in his hands.

"Come on, Sunshine. Let's get out of here," he whispered through tears.

The Toussaints insisted they stay for lunch, which Joe was eager to do, and Deeks couldn't fault him for it. He was enjoying his visit and seemed especially drawn to Iris, who treated him sweetly, as if he were one of her own. The smell of frying chicken also made the case for them staying, especially when he saw the look on Kensi's face. Iris even had her helping out in the kitchen and that couldn't be a bad thing if she learned even one small thing from the tiny woman. Callen managed to pull him away once the decision to stay was made and they walked out toward the barn. He was obviously curious and queried him about the change in his demeanor, hugging him fiercely when he shared the theoretical burial of Jimmy Hale.

"It's finally over, brother," Deeks said.

The crack of a rifle shot and splintering wood next to his head shattered the peace as Callen took him to the ground. His heart was pounding as adrenaline kick started his defenses, both of them scrambling to get inside the safety of the barn. Multiple gunshots broke out as they flattened themselves on the dirt floor and listened as angry shouts in Cajun echoed through the dense undergrowth between rounds.

"You hit?" Callen gasped out.

"No. You?"

"Didn't miss by much," he replied as he edged toward the door, his gun drawn and ready.

"Sonofabitch!"

"Deeks?"

The sound of Kensi shouting his name had him up and ready to charge out the door until Callen grabbed him and pulled him back down, growling for him to stay put.

"We're good," Callen shouted back as the sound of the firefight grew intense.

"Kens? You okay?" Deeks yelled.

"We're all good here," Joe yelled back.

The large figure of a man dressed in camo pants and a khaki t-shirt bolted from the tree line along the bayou, firing on them as he ran toward the barn. Before he got more that five yards, he went down, blood spurting from a hole just below his throat. And suddenly it was quiet, except for a few scattered shouts in Cajun. Neither one of them had fired a shot.

Roy walked out of the undergrowth and picked up the rifle the dead man had been using, tossing it aside in disgust before heading their way. They slowly got to their feet, taking time to catch their breath.

"It's over. Got all the bastards," Roy said as he assessed them. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Guess we got lucky," Deeks replied as he looked out at the dead man.

"You're right about that. Those bozos didn't know what the hell they were doin'," Roy said. "Disorganized rabble."

"Still…" Callen said as Deeks tried to brush past him to go to Kensi.

"Captured two of 'em," Roy said, peaking his curiosity and making him pause to hear what he had to say.

"Militia?" Callen asked.

"Amateurs with a hard-on over perceived wrongs," Roy said, and Deeks smiled.

"You can be downright poetic for a dickwad," Deeks said and Roy tilted his head and grinned.

"Anyone we might know?" Callen asked.

"Dead guy was a Brotherhood wannabe," Roy replied. "Tino's second cousin according to Eugene Doucet. He's the deputy sheriff. Apparently Tino thought the guy was a joke. Never let him set foot in the camps."

"Guess he was trying to impress him," Deeks said.

"No. Revenge to impress the family," Roy said. "Tino was killed in the prison over in Angola last week. Old friend of Saint's shanked him in the back more than a few times."

"Shit," Deeks felt a little sick as a wave of dark memories rolled over him. "Not sure I'm hungry after all this."

"They're all gone now, Deeks," Callen said, gripping his shoulder hard, his eyes intense and his mouth in a rigid line.

"Hard to believe," Deeks replied, surprised by the emptiness he was feeling.

"You ain't missin' that bastard are ya?" Roy cracked.

"No. It just feels like it was all a dream now that they're all gone," Deeks said.

"You mean nightmare," Callen said.

"Yeah, you're right," he replied, finally feeling nothing but relief. "My dream is about to knock me over with a hug, so stand back."

Kensi called out his name as she jogged across the yard and he hurried to meet her. Joe pulled him into a hug before Kensi could, but quickly moved on to Callen.

"Hey. You okay?" He asked as she grabbed him, holding him so tightly it made him smile. "Kens? Kens…I need to breathe, baby."

"I'm not letting you go, Deeks…ever."

"Sounds good, sunshine. Sounds good."

…

…


	28. Chapter 28

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 28_

…

The aftermath of the firefight had left them all ready to get home. By the time they had given statements and explanations to the parish sheriff they were tired and hungry, the lunch having been spoiled by the chaos of death. Roy had called Hetty and she had arranged for the small jet they had flown in on to be ready to bring them home that night. They had said their goodbyes and apologies to the Toussaints, once again leaving them with a dead body in their yard. Iris had kindly packed up the cold fried chicken and handed out slabs of cornbread wrapped in waxed paper for each of them to take on the plane, waving to them until the boats pulled around the first bend in the bayou. Once she was out of sight, Deeks unwrapped his cornbread and crumbled it over the side of the boat, watching the last symbol of his time here float away on the surface of the dark water. The hollow croak of an egret closely followed, the white bird's wings flapping softly as it settled over the unexpected morsels, its long yellow beak darting in to snag the biggest pieces. Kensi linked her arm with his until the bayou curved and tendrils of low hanging moss hid the beautiful creature from view.

"They're magnificent," Kensi whispered as she snuggled against him.

He agreed, but the brilliant white bird was simply one other thing about this place that dredged up images he wanted to forget. He felt anxious, staying silent until the boat finally stopped. He looked up to see Callen holding out a helping hand to him as he stepped somberly over the side of the boat onto the cement ramp.

"Let's get the hell outa here, brother," Callen said, his eyes revealing his own need to be free of this place.

…

By the time they had gotten back to St. Martinville, said their goodbyes to the Doucets, and checked out of their hotel in Lafayette, it had been past midnight. All of them were exhausted and when they were unable to locate their pilots they were decidedly grumpy as well. When they finally got in the air it was two in the morning. Deeks felt too tired to even think about food, but Kensi rummaged through her go-bag and hauled out the large plastic container of chicken Iris had given her and tore into it like a wild animal. She glared at him when he laughed and seemed somewhat possessive about the food when Callen reached over to take a piece. That started the joking and they all managed to have some of the chicken before Kensi had a chance to eat it all. Sleep came soon after and when he woke they were on the ground in Los Angeles.

Joe offered to drop Callen off at his house, but Deeks wasn't ready to head home just yet and suggested to Kensi they drive down to the beach. The sky was clear and she indulged him, driving straight to Venice Beach. She did insist that he buy her breakfast and after parking in the lot they walked over to the Waterfront Cafe where she ordered a hefty stack of pancakes that she drenched in syrup. It felt so normal to watch her devour them, and he found himself smiling at how happy she made him just by eating a syrup soaked pancake.

"What?" She asked with her mouth full.

"I love you in spite of the fact that you eat like a wild bear," he said, grinning at her.

"May I point out that most, if not all bears are wild, Deeks…and…for your information I do not eat like one," she said pointedly after swallowing. "All I had for dinner was a couple of pieces of chicken."

"And you growled at Callen when he tried to take a drumstick," he reminded her.

"Did not."

"Did too, Sugarbear," he laughed.

She finally smiled and shrugged her shoulders, quickly cleaning her plate while he signaled the waitress for the check. After paying the bill they strolled through the few cars in the parking lot and out onto the sand. The early morning air was fresh and he felt content, and walked leisurely along the beach under the warmth of the California sun. He was weary and had very little energy, but it was the lightness of soul that made him smile. It was if he was floating over the sand, reveling in the constant sound of rushing waves and the insistent calls of the gulls as they rode the soft incoming winds.

"What are you thinking about?" Kensi asked as she held his arm.

"Absolutely nothing," he replied. "Just soaking up the rays and happy to be home."

"Think we might get ourselves a Christmas tree some time today?" She asked, stopping and stepping in front of him. "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve."

"Seriously? Tomorrow?" He said. "Guess I really lost track of time."

"Not surprising, baby, after everything that's been going on," she replied, caressing his cheek and kissing him sweetly. "We don't have to get a tree if you don't want to."

"Can we decide later?" He asked, pulling her close.

"Still trying to shake off the trip?" She asked.

"I don't even want to think about it," he replied.

"You look tired," she said. "Maybe we should just go home and get in bed."

"To sleep or did you have something else in mind?"

She ran her hands up and down his arms before looking up into his eyes. "I want to get you completely naked and then I want to hold you and cuddle you. I want to make slow love to you and see the smile I love when I do the things you love. I want to be in bed with my fiancé. All. Day. Long."

"What happened to shopping for a tree?" He asked with a wide smile, pulling her to him.

"Overrated."

"Really? What about Christmas gifts? Those overrated too?"

"Noooo…they're not," she said, wrinkling her nose in that cute way that always made him smile. "Stores will still be open tomorrow."

"Anything special I should be shopping for?" He asked, kissing her lightly on the lips.

"Surprise me," she whispered and nuzzled his ear.

"I love you," he said.

"That's not a surprise," she replied, laying her head against his chest as they looked out over the glistening sea.

"That you love me back still surprises me sometimes," he confessed.

"That's a forever gift," she said.

"Good to know, Sunshine."

"Then take me to bed, Marty Deeks."

"Whatever makes you happy, baby," he whispered before he kissed her. "Sounds like Christmas is coming early this year."

…

On the drive home he took in the familiar landscape that was Los Angeles. Store windows glittered with Christmas scenes decorated with fake snow and fake trees, working hard to capture the attention of last minute shoppers. It was like another world compared to the place they'd just left, and that alone made him happy. He hadn't given much thought to Christmas up until now, but as he looked over at Kensi, he wanted to buy her piles of presents and put up the biggest tree they could find. He wanted to lose himself in all the things that make this a wonderful time of year. He wanted to see her laughing and he wanted to be surrounded by his family. He just wanted to be a normal guy rushing through stores buying whatever caught his fancy for the people he loved.

"When did that happen?" Kensi asked as they pulled into their driveway.

"What's that?"

"The Christmas lights," she said with a wide smile.

The eaves twinkled with tiny multi-colored lights and there was a large, and very real, evergreen wreath on the front door.

"Looks like Santa's elves have been working overtime," he said, delighted by the surprise.

"How sweet is this," Kensi said as she hurried up to the door.

Deeks grabbed their go-bags out of the car and jogged up to the house with a silly grin on his face, feeling like a little kid. Kensi had stopped in the middle of the living room and was staring at a fully decorated Christmas tree snugged into one corner. Before he could even comment, Kensi turned around and wrapped him in a hug. A large card in the shape of a snowman was wedged into the branches in the middle of the tree, wishing them a Merry Christmas. Soldier's signature was the biggest, but every member of his family had signed it, along with Sam and the Wonder Twins.

"Wow," Deeks said in a hushed tone. "Just wow."

"They even got us gifts," Kensi said, sounding amazed by it all.

Deeks was deeply moved by their thoughtfulness and tears welled in his eyes. The smell of pine reminded him of Wyoming and his heart swelled with contentment and a growing sense of joy.

"How'd we get so lucky?" He asked. "Best Christmas ever."

"What about New Years?" Kensi asked, looking up at him with a slight smile.

"What about it? What's so special about the first day of next year?" Deeks asked, his face morphing into a look of confusion as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Well…I guess I could marry someone else that day," she said cockily. "Elan might be available. Or Callen…"

"Not happening, Sunshine," he said, and kissed her. "Callen would drive you crazy, for one, and Elan is in love with someone else."

"Then who should I marry? Any ideas?" She asked, looking perplexed.

He didn't even answer her, he simply scooped her up in his arms and headed for the stairs. She sighed and pressed her forehead against his cheek as he carried her into the bedroom. He let her down and reached behind her head to undo her ponytail, allowing her hair to cascade around her shoulders. She was smiling softly as she pulled at his tee shirt, and he let her lift it over his head.

"My turn," he said and lifted her shirt up and off.

"How about we shower first, Artie," she said with a laugh.

"That bad?"

After they both kicked off their shoes and socks, she hooked her fingers over his belt and began pulling him toward the bathroom. When she let him go to start the shower, he reached out and undid her pale blue bra, resting his hands on her shoulders before sliding the straps off. She turned to face him as the bra dropped to the floor. His eyes rested on her perfect breasts and he couldn't resist teasing the tips with his tongue. Her fingers carded through his hair as he suckled her, listening to her breathing hitch as his tongue circled her nipple. His fingers fumbled to undo her jeans as his excitement grew, and she breathed out a laugh as she quickly shed them. She had no trouble undoing his pants and he enjoyed watching the hungry look in her eyes as she slowly worked them past his hips, her hands stroking down his thighs as they dropped to the floor along with his underwear.

"Finally got what you wanted, yeah?" He whispered, gently running his hands up her arms and pulling her to his chest.

"Not yet," she replied. "Now get in the shower, naked guy."

She slapped his butt as he got in under the spray, and he laughed as she stepped in front of him. She dipped her head under the shower, her wet hair slick and dark as she smoothed it back. The water glistening on her skin and cascading down the curve of her hips made him reached for her, urgently needing to caress her and make love to her. He hardened as he pulled her to him and his hands wrapped around her body and closed over her breasts, now slippery with fragrant soap.

"God, you're incredible," he whispered into her dark, wet hair.

His hands moved gently over and around her breasts and she groaned, sinking back into him as his mouth closed over the tender curve of her neck. Still holding one breast he slid his other hand down her body until his fingers found the nest between her legs. She jerked and moaned as his fingers moved inside of her, pressing him back against the glass wall of the shower. He sucked on her neck as she panted out his name, her arm wrapping up around his head as her orgasm came in waves. When he released her she turned and their mouths crashed together in wild passion, her fingers clawing into his ass and arousing him even more. Breaking apart he saw that her eyes were dark and she pulled him under the shower of water, their kisses long and deep. Bending down to lick at his nipple she began to stroke him, and he held his breath as he tried to control himself. Her tongue was hot and her hand moved faster and faster until a powerful wave of euphoria roared through him as he came. He opened his eyes and she was smiling at him.

"Dammit, Kens…I can't breathe," he whispered.

She didn't say a word, she simply took the small, sweet smelling bar of soap and began to rub it over his body, her hands slick as she slowly cleansed him of their lovemaking. He felt as if he were melting as her hands caressed him, and he hardened again as his want grew. She drew him back under the shower of water and gently washed his hair. He finally felt total contentment and reached up and took her face in his hands, drawing her mouth to his, kissing her tenderly, never wanting to let her go.

"I love you so much," he whispered against her lips.

"I want you inside me, baby," she said.

He kissed her and reached around her to shut off the water. As soon as she was out of the shower he picked her up in his arms and carried to the bed, laying her down gently. She stretched out languidly, reaching out to rest her hand on his hip as she spread her legs in invitation. Droplets of water pooled in her belly button and he knelt to suck it into his mouth before he straddled her body, now moving rhythmically beneath him. He kissed her breasts and then moved down her body, licking and kissing her as she gripped the bedding. He spread her legs further apart, stroking her inner thighs as his tongue teased her rosebud. He began to lick her harder and harder until she cried out, bucking as she climax, but he gave her no rest. He drew himself up and entered her hard and she groaned loudly as they moved together, his hands now squeezing her breasts as her fingers clawed into his back. The explosion of passion made him shiver in ecstasy and he collapsed on top of her, his face between her breasts as he panted. He felt her laugh before he heard it, and he looked up and rolled off of her.

"God, you make me happy," she said, as she propped herself up on one elbow to look at him.

"I think of it as a full time job…a very enjoyable one," he said softly, tucking her still wet hair behind her shoulder, and sliding his hand down to fondle her breast.

She leaned in and kissed him, stroking his cheek until he pulled her over into his arms. She snuggled against his chest and a deep sense of contentment filled him once again. He had no interest in moving, or leaving the bed. He listened to her breathe, his thumb moving in a slow circle over her hip.

His time spent talking with the old black pastor in the cemetery passed lazily through his mind, and he let it slip away. Yesterday faded as he held her, his thoughts on their future and what he wanted to give her for Christmas. But today…right now…he just wanted to hold her.

"Cold," she murmured.

He reached behind him and pulled the duvet over them both, cocooning them together. His eyelids began to droop and his breathing slowed as they were enveloped in the warmth of the covering. She moaned with contentment and snuggled closer, her leg crossing his, pinning him in place.

"Sleep," she whispered, kissing him softly on the chest, and he did.

…

When he woke the room was almost dark and Kensi was gone. He looked quickly at the bedside clock and realized they had slept the entire day away. He threw the duvet cover off and got up. Dressing quickly in sweats, he tousled his hair and went to find her, a smile flickering with anticipation. He padded silently down the stairs on bare feet, and saw her curled up by the Christmas tree rummaging through the presents.

"That's kind of naughty, don't you think?" He said, trying to look serious as he stood with his hands on his hips.

She hadn't heard his approach and she jumped when he spoke, a slightly guilty look on her face that she tried to cover with a giggly smile.

"I was just trying to see which ones were mine and which were yours," she explained.

"So you weren't going to break protocol and open them before Christmas morning?" He asked as he dropped to his knees beside her.

"When I was a kid, we opened gifts on Christmas Eve," she said.

"It's not Christmas Eve until tomorrow, Kens," he reminded her.

"Since when did you start following all the rules, Agent Deeks?" She said, sounding a little grumpy.

"Touché, baby," he said softly, and picked up one of the gifts and read the tag. "It's to both of us…from Hetty."

They stared at each other as he held the long, slender box between them until he cocked his eyebrow and she tilted her head. They smiled at the same time when he handed it to her to open.

"What do you think it is?" He wondered aloud as she gently shook it. "It's not very big. Ooh…maybe it's a tie."

"It's to both of us you idiot," she shot back.

"We could share," he said, grinning cockily.

"Yeah…right. It's not a tie, Deeks," she replied as she tore a small piece of red paper off the corner.

"Come on, Sunshine. You usually rip the wrapping paper to shreds in seconds," he said. "You afraid it'll explode? If Hetty wanted to off us, which I don't think she does…well at least I hope she doesn't…I think she'd be more clever…don't you? Or at least not put her name on…"

"Deeks!"

She glared at him, looking exasperated by his babbling, but finally tearing the paper off the long, narrow gift box. He grabbed it out of her hands and lifted the top carefully.

"An envelope..?" Kensi said.

"Gift card maybe?" Deeks said, handing the box back to her.

"Are you afraid to open it?" She laughed.

"No…maybe," he said.

"It's a letter…"

He snatched it from her hand and unfolded it slowly, reading it quickly to himself until she snatched it back and began to read it out loud.

 _To the soon to be Mr. And Mrs. Blye-Deeks or Deeks-Blye, whichever you finally settle on._

 _This is an offer you can choose to accept or are welcome to tell me to back the hell off._

 _A close friend has a secluded villa on the west coast of Costa Rica and has generously offered it to me for a vacation. I have already made other plans, but thought I would offer it to you for your honeymoon. It is right on the beach and close to the charming town of Tamarindo. I have enclosed details and some pictures. It also comes with a cook if you are interested._

 _I have spent time there and found it to be a wonderful experience. It is a very peaceful place._

 _Merry Christmas,_

 _Hetty_

When Kensi looked up she had tears in her eyes. "I've always wanted to go to Costa Rica."

"Seriously? Me too. The surfing is great…but I don't have to surf if…"

"Baby…you can do whatever makes you happy," she said. "As long as you spend more time with me than your surfboard."

"I'd rather lie on top of you than a surfboard any day, Sunshine," he said, grinning widely, as he took the letter from her hand and leaned in to kiss her softly.

"Oh God, Deeks…we're going to Costa Rica on our honeymoon," she whispered.

"Only if you marry me first, Sunshine."

"You drive a hard bargain, but if I have to…"

She didn't finish her sentence, simply tackled him to the floor, peppering his face with kisses and giggling with excitement.

…

…


	29. Chapter 29

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 29_

 _..._

 **Early part rated M**

…

A smile flickered at the edges of his mouth as he watched Kensi talk with Hetty on the phone. She was curled up in the big overstuffed chair next to the tree, asking questions about the villa in Costa Rica and the surrounding area. He could hear the excitement in her voice, her nose wrinkling as she smiled at some new tidbit of information. She looked beautifully happy and a joyous warmth spread through his chest. He sighed with contentment before turning to open the fridge in search of a couple of beers. What he found was a bottle of expensive champagne, a silver tag attached with red curly ribbons. It was signed by Diane with a note to call her, but only after drinking the wine. Suddenly worried that something was wrong, he pulled his phone and called her.

"You finished the champagne already?" Di said before he could say anything. "It's not even six."

"Yeah…no. Listen Di…Is something wrong?" He asked nervously.

"No…Marty…no. I didn't mean to scare you," she replied quickly. "I just wanted to ask if we could all come over later with pizza. George has been anxious to see you. Elan too. But, if it's not convenient…"

"No..no. That would be great. We can share the champagne," he said, blowing out his breath in relief.

"No. That's for the two of you…to celebrate being home."

"We don't know how to thank all of you for the tree, and the wreath and the Christmas lights," he said. "I managed to keep Kensi from opening all the presents, and believe me it wasn't easy."

"It was all Soldier's idea," Di said with a laugh. "He had more fun than anyone. He was very particular about the tree, too. Elan said it took them more than an hour to find one he was satisfied with. That kid is something."

"You all are," he replied softly.

"So…how does eight o'clock sound?" She asked. "We'll bring pizza and more wine and some beer."

"Sounds perfect."

He smiled to himself as he ended the call, and looked up when Kensi walked in, smiling slightly as she picked up the bottle of champagne to read the label.

"This is from Di isn't it?" She said.

"Yeah. They all want to come over around eight, if that's okay with you."

"I'd love that actually," she said. "They made Christmas for us."

"And Hetty made the decision on our honeymoon," he said. "All we have to do is drink champagne, buy presents and…"

"Make love."

She moved sensuously toward him and he forgot all about the wine when she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him into a warm, deep kiss that seemed to go on forever. She took his breath away, pushing his body back against the center island, moving slowly, but urgently and arousing him as her breasts pressed into his chest. A murmur of appreciation slipped out as he slid his hands down inside the back of her leggings and began to gently massage her ass. They began to move in rhythm as her hands settled briefly on his hips before slipping inside his sweats to grab his butt, making him laugh.

"I got you, babe," she whispered, looking proud of herself.

"Yeah? Well, your ass is mine, Sweet Buns," he replied and pulled her tighter.

"Turn around," she told him firmly, and he grinned and did as he was told.

She lifted his top off and over his head, dropping it at his feet. His breathing became shallow as he listened to the soft rustle of clothing behind him, shivering in anticipation as she undressed. Her hands were cool as they moved over his back and down his ribs to his hips, pulling his sweatpants down as she knelt behind him, softly breathing hot air over his bare ass. Her kisses were open mouthed, her tongue languid as it moved over his skin. He closed his eyes when her hand closed over his cock. She rose slowly, sliding her breasts over his ass, pressing their heat against him as her hands moved expertly, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. He slid his hands along her forearms as his heart beat faster and he began to pant. Without releasing her grip, she stood up, one hand sliding slowly up his abdomen to his chest until her fingers began fondling his nipple as her other stroked him hard. When her open mouth closed on the base of his neck, the heat of her wet kiss made him lose complete control and he came in an explosion of passion and euphoria. Her fingers gripped his pec and jerked him back even more tightly against her as she sucked the top of his shoulder. He tried to turn, but she wouldn't let him, tightening her grip on him as she continued to move against him.

"God, Kens…let me touch you," he whispered.

She didn't reply, her tongue leaving a line of fire down between his shoulder blades. Her hand moving once again until he thought he would go crazy, wanting her badly and amazed by her desire to give him such incredible pleasure.

"Kens…"

She covered his mouth with her hand, silencing him. It was erotic and he moaned and submitted to whatever she wanted to do to him, closing his eyes as she worked to bring him once again to the edge of ecstasy. When her hand finally dropped away from his mouth, her nails suddenly scraped across his nipple and he came, bucking back against her, groaning as waves of pleasure surged through him. She covered his mouth loosely this time, so he opened his mouth and eagerly licked between her fingers. She laughed against his back, kissing him lightly before she released him.

His muscles quivered as he turned to face her, reaching out with both hands to pull her mouth to his, kissing her passionately.

"That was…unbelievable," he whispered against her lips.

"I want you to know how much I love you," she replied quietly.

"If my pounding heart is any indication, you succeeded," he replied, breathless as he petted her, nuzzling her neck as he held her. "Couch or bedroom?"

"Champagne."

"Kens…"

"No rush, Mr. Deeks-Blye," she said in a sultry voice. "I can have you anytime I want, but right now I want champagne."

"Are we drinking it naked?" He asked, grinning widely.

"Oh, yeah…under the Christmas tree," she said as she grabbed the bottle and walked out of the kitchen. "Clean up and bring the glasses, hot stuff. I'll be waiting."

He laughed at her bossiness. It turned him on. "Oh buddy…you are one lucky sonofabitch."

…

He was definitely feeling no pain when his enthusiastic family arrived with several large boxes of pizza and a plastic tub full of salad. Kensi hugged Soldier as he excitedly explained his decision making on the tree and its decorations, while Di and Uncle Jim got organized in the kitchen. Callen gave him the look he always did when surrounded by family, trying to remain aloof, but secretly pleased to be a part of it. Joe and Elan laughed when they realized he was slightly drunk, shaking their heads at his goofy smile. But George was watching him carefully, worry softening his face.

"Are you okay, son?" He asked when Joe and Elan left them to wander into the kitchen in search of beer.

"More than okay," he said with a cocky grin, the sex and champagne having relaxed him completely.

"You look tired," George said, touching him lightly on the arm.

"Tired and happy," he said, suddenly hugging the man who meant so much to him.

"A little drunk too, I think," George's laugh deep and warm.

"Champagne and Kensi are quite a combination," Deeks said, still smiling as he stepped back and looked over at his fiancé.

"So I'm guessing tonight isn't the time to talk about what happened in Louisiana," George said.

"It's over and done with," he said quickly. "I don't want to look back or even think about it anymore. I'm ready to move on, George."

"Joe said the same thing," he replied. "But I would like to know what made the difference in you…maybe not tonight, but sometime."

Deeks could see that his reluctance to share what happened hurt him a little and that bothered him. As much as he wanted to forget the last couple of days, freezing George out of that experience was painful. Maybe he hadn't let it all go. If he couldn't share it with this man, maybe he was still holding onto part of it.

"Let's go out back," he said softly.

The air held a cold edge from the slight wind that gusted through the trees. He stopped, George standing silently beside him as he looked up into the not quite black sky, the ambient light from the massive city overpowering the darkness. The distant sound of a plane taking off from LAX brought back a flood of memories, and the initial feelings of fear for Joe he'd experienced all those months ago when they'd headed off to find him.

"Joe's good…yeah? He's good now…," Deeks mumbled, stumbling over his thoughts.

"He knows the decision he made is right," George said quietly. "Said the Doucets helped him understand that."

"That's one solid family…big too," Deeks said.

"Elan was taken with 'em."

He felt awkward for some reason and they both retreated into silence. Deeks wasn't sure why he was so reticent to share his conversation with Pastor Toussaint, and struggled to find something to say.

"What are you afraid of son?"

George's question stunned him. "I'm not afraid."

"Maybe not, but Littleshield would say you were a bit superstitious," he replied. "I'd say, you're afraid that if you talk about what happened too much, the truth of it might disappear like a bad dream in the morning."

"It was kind of like a dream," Deeks said wistfully. "Standing in an old graveyard with an old black preacher telling me to bury my alias there and walk away. Doesn't that sound like a dream to you?"

"Sounds like good advice, son," George said, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder.

"Yeah, it was."

"Did you listen?"

"I think I'm afraid Jimmy Hale won't stay buried," Deeks said, voicing a fear he had kept to himself since they left Louisiana.

"Talking about the dead don't bring 'im back, son," George said.

The comment struck him hard. It was a truth so simple and liberating that it left him breathless. It also made him realize that he could no longer hear Jimmy Hale's voice in the back of his mind or feel him scratching at the deeper edges of his thoughts. He suddenly huffed out a relieved breath and felt his eyes water. George noticed and patted him softly on the back a couple of times adding to the feeling of serenity that washed over him.

"He's dead and gone, George…Jimmy Hale is gone," Deeks whispered with assurance.

He turned and hugged George with all his strength, laughing softly as he blinked back tears. It was if he had needed this conversation with the man he thought of as his father to cement his liberation.

"That's good to hear, son. Real good," George said, squeezing the back of his neck before letting him go. "Now…I don't know about you, but I'm hungry and that pizza smelled awful good."

"Yeah, it did," Deeks replied. "Thanks, George."

"For what, son?"

"For being here."

They walked back inside to join the others and fight for a slice of pizza. He ate his while listening to his family tease each other and tell stories about past Christmases. With Kensi snuggled in beside him as they stood around the kitchen, he realized how incredibly happy he was. His future might be different, but this family of his would always be here for him and that banished some of the concern he felt about the decision he was facing.

…

He'd found himself alone Christmas Eve morning. Kensi had rushed off after breakfast to meet Diane for some last minute shopping. Elan and Soldier were helping Joe put the finishing touches on the repairs to his house so they could put it on the market in January, and Joe had promised to take all of them, including Uncle Jim, riding afterwards. He had a friend who was a wrangler at some sort of dude ranch called Running Horse Ranch that offered trail rides in the area where they filmed some of the Westerns his dad and uncle loved. George had surprised them all by passing on that adventure, choosing instead to take Hetty up on her offer to take him sightseeing. They had stopped by to try and convince him to join them, but he needed to do some Christmas shopping of his own, so he begged off. He had enjoyed watching George try to convince Hetty he should be the one to drive, but that was one argument Deeks knew he would never win. Once they were gone and he was alone, he called Callen.

"I know how much you love shopping, so how about it?" Deeks asked right away.

"Wiseass," Callen laughed. "Even if I wanted to…which I don't. Not possible anyway. Sam and I caught a case."

"What kind of case?" He asked.

"Hopefully one we can close today," he said, sounding distracted.

"Who you after?"

"Deeks…you're on leave, remember?" Callen said. "Go buy some Christmas presents. Maybe some sexy lingerie for your soon to be wife. Sam and I got this."

"What could an old man like you possibly know about buying lingerie?" Deeks teased.

"I've had my moments," he replied. "I can give you details if you want."

"I just finished my breakfast and I'd like to keep it down, if you don't mind," he snarked.

"Smartass."

"Old fart."

"Gotta go, brother," Callen said in a rush and abruptly ended the call.

Deeks knew that tone. Callen was already focused on the new case, and Deeks felt left out. But, if he decided to end his career with NCIS, this would be the feeling he would have every day, at least for a while. He would have to kiss Kensi goodbye every morning, sending her off without him, because he knew she would never give up her job. When she came home and he wanted to discuss her day, she would have to keep the details from him because he wouldn't have the clearance to know those details. And if a case ran deep into the night, he would have to find the patience to wait at home for her, knowing she could be in danger, and praying that whoever her partner was, would be good at his job and have her back.

"Sonofabitch."

Deep down he knew no one could protect her the way he could and would if he stayed. Just the thought of it left him unsettled and uncertain about actually walking away. How could he leave her in the hands of someone he didn't even know?

When the phone played her ringtone, he jumped.

"Hey, Sunshine…"

"Are you still home?" She asked.

"Yeah…why?"

"You're supposed to be out shopping for my presents," she said, sounding quite serious until she giggled at the end. "What's holding you up? And don't tell me you've gone back to bed."

"Okay…I won't," he said softly.

"Are you feeling okay? You sound kind of down," she said, and he could hear the concern in her voice.

"No…no, no…I'm fine," he hurried to say. "Just procrastinating, baby…but I promise, I will get out there and hunt down your Christmas gifts…and they'll be awesome."

"You better," she interrupted. "Cause I want something to open tonight and Christmas morning."

"Then I better get going, Sunshine," he said. "After my shopping spree I'll have to round up a couple of elves to do some quick gift wrapping for me."

"Poor baby," she mewed. "Maybe Callen can help."

"Gift wrapping is definitely not one of Callen's skills," Deeks replied, huffing out a laugh. "Anyway, he's not available. They caught a case."

"What is it?" She asked.

"Wouldn't say."

"That bothered you didn't it?"

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"You have to know that's how it will be if you don't come back to NCIS," she said honestly.

"Don't you think I know that?" He snapped out sharply.

"Okay…listen. I'm going back to my shopping," she replied stiffly. "If you want to sit around the house and sulk, be my guest."

When she abruptly ended the call, he instantly regretted how stupid he was to snap at her. He'd started out this morning happy, looking forward to searching for the perfect gift for her, and now he'd spoil it. Irritated with how the morning had gone, he poured himself the last of the coffee and stood staring out into the backyard that was now bathed in the hard light of the winter sun. His enthusiasm for shopping had waned and he wondered once again what kind of case Callen and Sam were dealing with. He couldn't deny he was curious and that he felt drawn to the excitement of the chase, of unraveling clues and interviewing witnesses until they eventually took down the bad guys. It was the life he had chosen for reasons that were still important to him. Could he leave it all behind? Would his curiosity and deep need to protect people lessen over time if he walked away from a life he had been a part of for such a long time? He was full of conflicting emotions when his phone rang and he couldn't help but smile when he saw who was calling.

"Hey, Isabel. Did you decide to dump that ugly Irishman you're married to and run away with me?"

"Don't think Kensi would let me get away with that," she replied, the laughter in her voice as sunny and warm as he remembered.

"Not so sure about that right now," he mumbled.

"Sounds like you two had a argument," she said softly.

"I pissed her off."

"I called to invite you both to lunch, but something tells me you're somewhere all alone feeling just a little sorry for yourself," she said gently.

"Am not," he grumped. "I'm home. She's out shopping, which is what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Then how about meeting me for lunch," Isabel said lightly. "The kids are over at Moira's and my gifts are already wrapped and under the tree."

"That sounds an awful lot like bragging," he teased.

"I am. Now…meet me at Rosti on Montana, cause I'm craving a big, fat, juicy burger," she ordered. "Then we'll see if I can help you do a little shopping for that lovely fiancé of yours. Nothing ends an argument faster than an expensive make up gift. Just ask Mick."

"Sounds good, Isabel…and thanks."

His spirits lifted as he drove into Santa Monica and finally found a parking place four blocks from the restaurant. He didn't mind the walk. It was a welcome distraction from all the questions tumbling around in his head. It gave him a chance to window shop and think about what he wanted to get Kensi for Christmas. She always loved shopping on this street, and it made him pause, wondering if he might run into her, and what he would say if he did. It made him wary and he didn't like that feeling. When he saw Isabel waving to him from across the street he felt relieved and hurriedly crossed the street, dodging a couple of cars.

"Mick would give you a ticket for doing that," she said as she hugged him.

"Still a stickler for every law on the books, yeah?"

"I think he got worse when they made him a sergeant," she replied, taking his arm as they walked up the block toward the restaurant.

"I learned a lot from him," he replied softly.

"That's what he always said about you, Marty," Isabel said, squeezing his arm. "He said you taught him what a father should be and what he shouldn't do. We're both grateful for that."

He couldn't think what to say to that and was silent as they entered Rosti's. The place was jammed and noisy, but luckily they found a table by the window in the back where it was slightly quieter. The waitress appeared almost immediately and they ordered without looking at the menu, having both eaten here before. The only surprise was that Isabel ordered them both a glass of wine, and she shushed him when he tried to protest.

"Trying to loosen me up?" He asked.

"Do you need to be?" She replied, smiling knowingly and making him remember long ago conversations.

"Not with you," he said, grinning softly. "You were always easy to talk to."

"Then talk. I know something is bothering you or you wouldn't have had an argument with Kensi," she said, taking a sip of the Pinot that had just arrived.

"Can I ask you a question first?" He said. "Did Raffy ever consider leaving the LAPD?"

"Is that what you're thinking about doing? Finding something else you love as much as law enforcement?"

"Love is a pretty strong word," he said as he looked into the red wine in front of him.

"What else would you call it when you risk your life everyday to help people you don't even know?" She said. "Your commitment always amazed Mick. He knew you loved undercover work, and that's what scared him. He was afraid you wouldn't realize when it was time to get out."

"Maybe I realize it now," Deeks said and took a large swallow of wine.

"Maybe you do, but don't make that decision too quickly, Marty," she said, reaching across to rest her hand on his. "I don't know what you went through in the last few months, Mick wouldn't tell me, but I do know you love your job. Even when it left you in the hospital, you always went back to it because you love what you do. It means something to you, and in some way, deep down, you need it. If you give it up and you regret that decision, you'll be miserable and you'll make Kensi miserable right along with you."

…

…


	30. Chapter 30

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 30_

…

After lunch Deeks had gotten serious about Kensi's Christmas presents. Even though he knew Kensi well, having Isabel along made his decisions much easier since one shake of her head or sometimes a grimace would steer him away from a mistake. She had led him to a couple of perfect stores and he was able to get Kensi a few very special things as well as a lovely bracelet for Diane, and he was finished with time to spare for finding something for everybody else. She had even offered to wrap the gifts while he drove over to Van Nuys to the Country General Store to pick up a couple of things for George and Joe and Uncle Jim. Elan had him stumped until he began telling the owner a little bit about him. He'd suggested a store down the street that carried knives, and Deeks silently kicked himself for being so distracted he hadn't thought of that himself. Callen was even tougher, but he laughed when he saw one his brother's favorite taco trucks as he drove through Santa Monica on his way to get Soldier's gift. A nice gift card for a month's worth of tacos did the trick. Thinking about Callen made him remember Sam, but he knew exactly what to get him and where to find it. He rushed into Angel City Records, knowing he was running out of time. Quickly asking for help, he came out with a vinyl record by Miles Davis in only a slightly worn album sleeve that he was pretty sure Sam was going to love.

It was almost dark by the time he found a parking place in Venice. He was grateful that most of the stores had stayed open a little later than usual, and the streets were crowded with people just like him who had last minutes gifts to buy. A man juggling an armful of wrapped packages and shopping bags, and trying to hold onto the hand of a little girl, stumbled into him, swearing sharply.

"Watch where you're going you idiot," the man spat out as he scrambled to pick up the fallen packages.

"Just to clarify, man. You ran into me," Deeks said calmly, handing him one of the bags he'd dropped.

"Sorry…long day," the man replied in a rush. "Too much to do and no time to do it. Having to drag my niece around all day hasn't made it any easier."

Deeks looked away from the annoying man, trying to keep from voicing his opinion about his comment. As he walked away he heard the man yell out the little girl's name.

"Ashley? Where are you? Ashley?"

The man sounded stricken as he shouted her name, and Deeks turned to quickly look over the stream of people, most of whom were oblivious to the frantic man. The gathering darkness made it hard to see, but he caught a glimpse of a man dragging the little girl around the corner and he took off running, yelling for her uncle to follow. When he turned the corner he saw the well-dressed man struggling to push the little girl into a waiting car. She was fighting hard and it gave him the time he needed to close the gap between them.

"Federal Agent! Let her go," he yelled, grabbing the man's jacket and slamming a fist into his face.

The man stumbled against the car, losing his grip on the little girl. Deeks managed to hold onto him, but the driver of the car suddenly hit the gas, spinning both of them to the ground, and roaring away down the alley. The kidnapper landed on top of him, aggravating his sore ribs. Despite the sudden pain, he angrily pushed the man off and rolled him face down on the rough pavement.

"Stay down," he shouted in his ear as he tried to catch his breath.

"You're a federal agent?" The uncle asked as he held the crying girl.

"Yeah…now call nine-one-one and tell them where we are and what happened," he ordered.

"I wasn't gonna hurt her, man," the kidnapper said.

"Seriously? You already did, douchebag. You scared her to death on Christmas Eve," Deeks said, holding him down as his anger blossomed.

"My wife can't have kids," The man whined as sirens blared.

"So you steal someone else's?" Deeks asked, stunned by what the man had admitted.

"She kept harping at me, man. Said it wouldn't be Christmas without a kid," the man babbled out.

"You are one sick sonofabitch. Your wife too," Deeks said as he took a breath. "I'm guessing she was the one driving the car, yeah?"

Deeks looked up into the blinding lights of the police car that had stopped in front of them and saw two guns trained on him. He raised both his hands and struggled to his feet.

"He's a federal agent, officers," the little girl's uncle shouted, moving up to stand beside Deeks. "The man on the ground grabbed my niece and this guy saved her."

"You expect me to believe this guy's a federal agent?" One of the cops said as he grabbed Deeks' arm and pulled him toward the police car. "Don't you know impersonating a federal agent is a crime?"

"Actually I do. I'm a lawyer, too," Deeks said as the officer patted him down and pulled out his wallet. "Federal Agent Martin Deeks, NCIS, Office of Special Projects."

"You broke this guy's nose," the other cop said as he handcuffed the kidnapper.

"He was about to shove the little girl into the back of a car," Deeks said as he watched the officer stare at his badge. "I did what was necessary."

"You stay right where you are while I check you out," the cop said gruffly.

"Just call your precinct and ask for Sergeant Mick Rafferty. We used to be partners," Deeks said with a slight smile.

"Oh, so now you claim to be a cop too?" The officer asked. "This just gets better and better."

"Better do it, Lennie," the other officer said. "If he's telling the truth, Sarge'll have you on traffic duty through New Years."

"He's right, Lennie. He's a stickler for proper procedure," Deeks said with a cocky grin.

"Yeah, okay…but you still don't look like any Fed I ever saw," the cranky officer said.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Deeks said, smiling for the first time.

As Deeks waited for the cop to confirm his identity, he felt a gentle tug on the hem of his jacket. He looked down at the little girl he had saved, her face blotchy and red from crying, and his heart tightened at just how close she'd come to never seeing her family again.

"Thank you for saving me," she said softly, looking back up at her uncle to see if she'd said it right.

Deeks immediately knelt in front of her with a wide smile on his face, wiping a remaining tear from her cheek.

"It was my pleasure, Ashley. You did good, sweetie. You were very brave, too, and you know what? Tomorrow morning when you wake up in your own bed, it'll be Christmas and I'll bet you'll have tons of presents to open, yeah?"

Tears welled in the little girl's eyes and she nodded, sniffling as her uncle quickly picked her up and hugged her to him.

"I don't know what to say," the man mumbled out. "Just saying thank you doesn't seem to be sufficient."

"Just make it the best Christmas she's ever had," Deeks replied.

"Thanks to you, it will be," the man said softly. "Merry Christmas, Agent Deeks."

"Have a good one, buddy," he replied, shaking the proffered hand.

"Jeff Irwin," the man said as he fumbled in his pocket and finally held out a business card. "If you ever need anything, call. Please."

"No need. Really."

"But you never know…do you?" the man said with tears in his eyes.

"Take care, Mr. Irwin."

The man nodded and turned away as the cop named Lennie stepped out of his police cruiser and waved Deeks over.

"Sorry I hassled you, Agent Deeks," he said gruffly. "Man, I hate holiday duty."

"Know what you mean. Did my share," Deeks said as the man handed him back his identification.

"I'll need your statement though," the officer said.

"Okay if I come down to the station in about an hour?" Deeks asked. "It'll give you time to book this guy and me a chance to pick up a couple of Christmas gifts."

"You should shop early, man. It's the only way," Lennie said. "My wife and I are done by Thanksgiving."

"Really? Wow. That is truly awesome," Deeks replied with a false grin to cover his irritation. "So how about giving me that hour, Lennie."

"Sure. Sergeant Rafferty said he'd like to see you anyway," the officer replied, sounding somewhat surly again. "I'm sure he'll just love spending time taking your statement."

"And you enjoy Christmas Eve rousting drunks, Lennie," Deeks said, smiling inwardly at the pissed off look on the guy's face.

He hurried away, knowing detectives were probably on their way, and might not be okay with him leaving the scene. He managed to get the gifts he had come for, but only after pleading with the toy store owner to let him in after he'd already locked the front door of his shop. He a half hour late getting to the precinct, and Rafferty didn't let him off the hook when he finally found him.

"Ya know I hate babysittin' detectives, Marty," he said with irritation. "Especially those two particular pains in the ass. They weren't too happy my officers allowed ya to leave the scene, so guess who they raked over the coals for it?"

"Sorry, Raffy."

"Ya hurt, lad?"

"Kidnapper's ass landed on my sore ribs," Deeks said, grinning and slightly embarrassed.

"But you're okay?"

"Yeah, Raffy. I'm good," he said, touched by his old partner's concern.

"Okay, then. Need your statement, but the guy already confessed. He'll probably take a plea," Rafferty said as he led him down the hall to one of the meeting rooms. "Puts all the blame on his wife."

"I think she was driving the getaway car," Deeks said, slumping into a chair.

"Heard ya had lunch with Isabel," Mick said, shoving a legal pad and pen at him.

"Just so you know…I wasn't serious when I asked her to run away with me," he replied with a cocky grin.

"Not a chance in hell she'd choose you over a handsome Irishman like me, lad," Rafferty said with a confident smile. "Now, what's this about ya thinkin' of findin' a new line of work?"

"Isabel always tell you everything?" He shot back, feeling a little betrayed.

"Yeah, she does, when she thinks I should know somethin'," he replied, his eyes boring into him with the same intensity he remembered from when they worked together.

"You're the one who thought I should get out all those years ago," Deeks said. "Thought you'd be happy I'm thinking about it."

"I wanted ya outa undercover work, lad, not law enforcement."

"Where I work, it's part of the job."

"Go on now and write up your statement," Mick said softly as he looked away from him.

Deeks thought Raffy would have been thrilled he was thinking about walking away, but that didn't seem to be the case and it surprised him. Drawing himself back to what he was supposed to be doing, he began to write down every detail he could remember about his part in foiling the attempted abduction of little Ashley. It still chilled him to think about what might have been, but he stuck to the facts, inserting none of his own emotions into his narrative. When he was finished, he shoved the yellow legal pad back over to Rafferty and waited while he read it.

"She was lucky you were there," he said quietly, and Deeks shrugged.

"Can I go now, Sergeant Rafferty?" He asked with a slight grin.

"You reacted on instinct," Mick said, toying with the pen as he spoke. "It was the most natural thing in the world for ya ta chase that man down and stop him from destroyin' a family and a little girl's life. Ya always had good instincts. Ya can't help yourself. It's who ya are, lad. Ya want to save people…little girls…dogs even…anyone in trouble. Ya always had that need to help people and ta bring down the bad guys as ya always called 'em."

"Is there a point in there somewhere, Raff?"

"That need ta help people won't disappear if ya quit your job, Marty," he replied. "That's just you. Ya got a cop's heart and soul, lad. What ya did today should prove that to ya."

"Anyone would have done what I did," he replied.

"Anybody else smack that guy in the face and tackle 'im ta the ground?" He asked as he leaned forward, his voice softening as he spoke. "My officers reported ya was the only one there except for some looky-loos and the girl's uncle."

"You know what I mean."

"Spent some time with your cousin Elan at the house that day," Rafferty said. "Got 'im ta tell me a little about Louisiana. Not much, but enough ta know what a hellish situation ya were in."

"You were always good at getting suspects to open up, but…Elan? He's tough…so I'm impressed."

"Ya got a short memory, Marty," Mick laughed. "I think the man just needed ta get some things off his chest. He may be tough, lad, but ya scared the bejesus out of the man out there. He was afraid those bastards would kill ya and he wouldn't be able ta do nothin' ta stop it."

"I know."

"It's how I felt when ya went undercover that first time," Rafferty said quietly. "I told 'im about that. It's why he talked ta me."

"Not sure I understand what you're trying to say," Deeks said, feeling frustrated. "What? You want me to keep my job? Or…or want me to quit? What, Raffy?"

"What I'm saying, lad, is that in spite of scarin' the shit outa us, Elan and I both agree you're damn good at your job, especially undercover work," he said quietly. "We admire ya, lad. We don't like seeing ya hurt, but we also know ya probably won't be happy doin' anythin' other than keepin' bad guys from hurtin' people."

Deeks heard the honesty in his old partner's voice, and his comment moved him.

"Ya saved that little girl and her family from unbelievable grief, Marty," Raffy said. "Ya should be proud of that, lad."

"I am."

"Then think about what I said and go home and make Christmas with your family," he said.

They both stood then and came around the table to shake hands, but Raffy briefly pulled him close and Deeks felt a wave of emotion flood through him.

"Isabel took the gifts she wrapped for ya over ta your place," Raffy said, patting him on the back as he ushered him out into the hall. "You're on your own with the rest of 'em."

"Merry Christmas, Raffy."

"Merry Christmas, lad."

He realized how much he had missed the big man, and was determined to keep him in his life. His comments had given him a lot to think about, but right now, all he wanted to do was what he'd told him to do…make Christmas for his family and make things right with Kensi.

…

He decided not to call Kensi, wanting to apologize in person for snapping at her on Christmas Eve, and a little worried she was still angry with him. She hadn't called him either, which added to that sinking feeling that he'd ruined the evening. As he pulled up to the house, the porch light was on and he could see Kensi talking to another woman. When he got closer, he saw it was Isabel. He actually considered driving off, but knew that would only put him in hotter water than he was in already, so he parked in the driveway and got out, plastering a big old smile on his face.

"Hey ladies," he called out. "You talking about me?"

He saw Isabel smile, but Kensi had that look he usually saw after a rough firefight and he knew Isabel had told her what had happened. She jumped down the steps and hurried toward him as he walked around the car to meet her. She stopped and looked him over before she reached out to him.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"I'm good, baby," he whispered as she rubbed his arm. "Sorry I snapped at you this morning. I'm an idiot."

"No you're not. You saved a little girl today, Deeks. I'm proud of you," she said as her arms slipped around his neck. "So you're forgiven."

"Wow…and all I had to do was take down a kidnapper," he said with a cocky smile. "Good to know…you know…in case I mess up again."

"Isabel told me," she replied.

"I figured as much," he said. "Apparently she and Mick tell each other everything."

"Don't knock it, buster," Isabel said as she walked up to them. "You learn a few things when you've been married as long as we have."

"Thanks for everything today," Deeks told her, leaning over to give her a hug.

"I've missed our conversations," she replied. "Mick has too."

"Yeah, but he mostly likes giving me advice," Deeks replied. "Like what to do with the rest of my life."

"I hope you listened," she said. "He cares about you, Marty."

"I know."

"What did he say?" Kensi asked.

"This is a conversation I don't need to be a part of. You have my two cents worth, and Mick's," Isabel said. "I really have to go. Christmas Eve dinner is at Moira's, and she makes a big deal if we're late. Merry Christmas you two. See you at the wedding."

He watched her go, but Kensi kept her eyes on him, and he turned to face her. "Want to help me carry in some gifts?"

She nodded imperceptibly, but he saw the well-known look that meant she wasn't willing to let him put her off for long. Opening the back of the SUV, he heard her sharp intake of breath and then a soft laugh of delight.

"How are we supposed to wrap that?" She asked.

"I have no idea," he replied honestly.

"We could just stick a bow on it," she suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," he said as he hefted Soldier's gift and carted it into the house.

Once they had all the gifts inside he sank down on the sofa, feeling tired all of a sudden, the adrenaline from his earlier take down of the kidnapper finally fading. Kensi wandered into the kitchen and came back with a couple of beers and after handing him one, sat down beside him and tucked her feet up. She ran her hand up his shoulder and into his hair, her fingers gently massaging the base of his neck.

"Are you trying to seduce me or trying to get me so relaxed I'll tell you what Mick said?"

"You know what? I don't care what he said," she replied earnestly. "Just tell me what went down this afternoon."

"Kens…I'm fine."

"Just tell me, Deeks."

He watched her face as he told her, saw the flicker of different emotions as he laid out each action he took. He tried to play the assault on his sore ribs for a little sympathy, but she only gave him a sad pout and a half smile, so he moved on. It was the disparaging comments made by Lennie the cop that got her anger up, her eyes flashing at the disrespect. Her reaction made him smile, but when he finished his account she leaned in and kissed him gently.

"You made that family's Christmas, Deeks," she said softly, snuggling in closer. "And I love you for it."

"You don't want me to walk away do you?"

"I think you've gone through a rough few months," she replied, her fingers combing slowly through his hair. "And that's given you lots of reasons to want to leave this kind of life behind."

"Kens…I know you don't want to lose me as a partner…"

"That can't be the only reason you stay, Deeks," she said fervently. "It won't be fair to me, if half way through a case you realize you were wrong and really don't want to do this anymore."

"You're right," he said quietly.

"It's dangerous, baby," she said. "You know that."

He took a long pull on his beer, reflecting on everything that had been said to him today. Kensi was right. He had to find his own purpose for continuing to be an agent. He had taken everyone's counsel to heart, but what remained the clearest to him was how he'd felt when he'd looked into that little girl's teary eyes. She represented everyone who was innocent in this world…all the people they worked to shield from the evil that lay hidden in the dark underbelly of society. How could he walk away from that little girl? If he hadn't been there for her or if he hadn't taken down Guidry and Pierce and Harrison White and all the other bastards that preyed on the weak and the innocent, what might have happened? He wasn't so full of himself to think he was the only one capable of taking down bad guys, but that little girl was home tonight because he had stopped a horrible thing from happening to her, and that had been the reason he'd become a cop in the first place. It was who he was and had wanted to be ever since he was eleven years old.

"The little girl's name was Ashley," he said. "She's the reason I won't walk away."

…

…


	31. Chapter 31

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 31_

…

The temptation to touch him was hard to resist as she watched him softly snoring beside her. He was snuggled face down into his pillow and the covers were pulled up so that only his eyes and his mop of messy blond hair were visible. It was a cold Christmas morning and cuddling with him was what she'd had in mind until he moaned quietly in his sleep, dreaming of her she hoped with an inward laugh. During the day, the love of her life seemed always to be moving or talking or laughing. He was an active person, bold, overly enthusiastic at times, babbling out ideas on just about everything you could think of. He could also be the calmest man in the room, and she always loved trying to figure out what he was thinking behind those warm blue eyes of his, knowing it wouldn't be conventional. When he was sleeping and still, he had a child's innocence about him, a vulnerability she wanted to keep safe. He murmured her name, and she smiled, finally reaching over to gently push his hair back so she could see more of his face.

"Is it Christmas? Did Santa come?" His slowly drawled out questions muffled by the pillow. "Or did he leave cause you ate his cookies and milk?"

Smiling, she felt his hand sneak up her thigh and she snuggled closer, caressing his cheek.

"It's early."

"That's what I thought when I fell in love with you," he said with a breath of warm air that feathered across her face. "Christmas came early."

"What?" She giggled softly at this new bit of information.

"You're the best gift…ever," he sighed as he opened his sleepy eyes and rolled onto his side, smiling at her, looking happy and content.

"That's a sweet thing to say," she replied, closing the small gap between their bodies.

"It's Christmas, Sugarplum," he said as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her softly as his hand trailed over her ass and up to the small of her back. "Everyone's supposed to be sweet on Christmas."

"The universal hope."

"It's a day to share all the good things in our life with the people we love," he said softly, kissing the tip of her nose.

"And presents," she said with a giggle.

"All those gift wrapped packages and shiny bows callin' out to you just a little bit?"

"Just a little," she said softly.

"How about a Christmas morning snuggle first?"

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

"Not quite," he whispered. "You're still wearing the sexy little lingerie thingy I gave you last night."

"Isn't that why you gave it to me?"

"I gave it to you so I could have fun taking it off," he said as he dipped his head under the covers. "A purely selfish gift."

His lips were warm as he laid a line of kisses down to the valley between her breasts, his fingers gently sliding the satin strings off her shoulders. He slowly began to fondle her and kiss the tips of her breasts, and she closed her eyes as he petted her, his hands moving sensuously over and under the fine lace and lavender satin. His tongue was hot and she murmured his name in appreciation as he stripped last night's lovely gift from her body. He suddenly rose up, throwing off the covers, hovering over her as his hands moved down her stomach, one finally coming to rest on the top of her hip. She stared at the long vein in his arm as he gently caressed her, finding it amazingly sexy. His naked body was golden in the early light, and he was smiling softly at her.

"You're so beautiful," he spoke the words reverently and she suddenly welled with emotion.

She ran her hands up his arms, and then reached up to touch his face. "We're getting married, Deeks."

"Yeah we are. Wait…why are you crying?" He asked, looking puzzled.

"Because I never thought I would find someone who would make me this happy."

He lowered himself down until his face hovered just above hers, his blue eyes warm and glazed with tears. Her hands came to rest on the muscles of his arms as he held her face, his kiss melting her into complete bliss. His weight pressed down on her and in that moment it wasn't his physical strength she felt, but his profound and absolute undying love for her. He didn't need any words to express it, she could feel it in the urgency of his kiss and comfort of his touch. She was loved. Completely. A gift that transcended all others.

"How about I make you a Christmas frittata?" He whispered against her ear.

"And how will it be different from your regular frittata?" She asked, kissing the soft scruff on his cheek.

"Well…that, Sugarplum, is a surprise," he said, kissing the tip of her nose before pushing himself up and off of her.

She immediately missed his warmth, and for a second felt sorry it was Christmas and that they still had gifts to wrap before heading over to the house where the family was staying. Usually she didn't mind sharing him, but today she wanted him close and all to herself, even though she knew it wasn't to be. She felt selfish, and reached out for his hand.

"Don't go just yet," she whispered, and he turned to look down at her.

His face softened into a smile, his eyes crinkling as he sat down beside her and ran his long fingers up her arm and into her hair, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

"You angling for breakfast in bed?"

"Can't we just be by ourselves a little bit longer?"

"Did I hear a little bit of a whine there?"

"No."

"Cause the Sugar Plum Fairy is not supposed to whine," he said softly.

"And how do you know that?"

"Haven't you ever seen the Nutcracker?" He asked with quizzical surprise. "The Sugar Plum Fairy is the ruler of the magical Land of Sweets and she's the one who orders the festivities and all the dances."

"I like the sound of that," she laughed, delighted by the reason he called her Sugarplum.

"I can't believe you've never seen The Nutcracker," he said, looking slightly sad. "It might still be on. If I get tickets, will you go with me?"

"I'd love to," she replies softly. "Did your mom take you when you were little?"

"No…couldn't afford it," he replied. "Remember my old grammar school teacher…Mrs. Joyce? She invited me to go with her and her daughter one year. I was a tough, smart-ass kid, but I had a crush on her daughter so I went. I didn't even know what a ballet was. God…it was magical. I still sneak off to see it whenever I can."

She heard the wistfulness in his voice, as if he were still that little boy, his toughness undone by a magical fairytale and ballet dancers.

"I love you, Marty Deeks," she said, rising up to kiss him gently on the lips.

His strong arms encompassed her as he kissed her in return, his warmth comforting, adding to her contentment. He was an appealing mixture of strength and gentleness, a man who could easily take down a kidnapper of little girls, but one who could be moved by the beauty of a children's fairytale ballet. There were so many things she loved about him, and so many elements of his personality and experiences she looked forward to learning about. Their life together was just beginning and she giggled with anticipation.

"You're not laughing at me are you?" He asked.

"I'm laughing because I'm excited," she said quietly. "It's Christmas and in a week, I'll be Mrs. Kensi Marie Blye Deeks."

"So you are taking my name," he said, looking pleased if not slightly surprised. "It's a mouthful, but I like it."

"Well, you can't be Mr. Blye, cause that's my dad…so…it makes sense for me to take your name or a combination of the two during work so nobody gets confused."

"I'm already confused," he laughed. "Come on Kensi Bleeks, let's go have coffee, make some breakfast, and wrap presents."

…

Hetty sat in a wingback chair, dwarfed by the huge Christmas tree covered in tiny white lights and long icicles of multi-colored glass. According to Di, the tree had been there and fully decorated when they all got back from various excursions yesterday. It was just the type of sneakiness Hetty was famous for. She had shown up early this morning and managed to hold court over everyone, even though she didn't say much. It was her house, and he would always be grateful that she had willingly shared it with his adopted family. She was smiling more than usual, which wasn't saying much, but it made him feel good to see her so happy. He didn't know if she had family. None of them did, even Callen, but he was sure the man would have tried to find out at some point. He'd always thought Callen was the closest one to family she had. Being around the Atwoods made her slightly less intimidating, and their easy laughter and gentle interaction seemed to allow her to loosen up, especially around George. The two of them had become good friends, and he wouldn't be surprised to find that they both worked each other for information regarding their concerns about him. He didn't resent it as much as he used to, not that either one of them would give up much unless they wanted to. She had given a gift to everyone, and Callen had smirked and raised his eyebrows as she'd handed them out, mouthing the word "re-gifter" when he caught his eye.

Shredded piles of wrapping paper littered the pale Persian carpet that covered the hardwood floor of the vast living room, and little Chris was laughing with delight as he threw wads of it into the air. Joe sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor grinning widely as he crushed the paper into balls and tossed them to his giggling two-year-old son. It had been a wonderful family Christmas, and he took his time watching the faces of each member, still amazed he was a part of it all.

His eyes drifted over to Soldier, who sat on the floor against the wall, running his hands over his new surfboard that had remained in his lap almost since the moment he and Kensi had given it to him. The boy had been stunned by the gift, but only momentarily, his smile turning into laughter as he hugged them each in turn, instantly wanting to head to the beach to try it out. Deeks promised to take him in the morning, and he finally agreed, his shyness returning when his father rested a big hand on his shoulder and reminded him of his manners.

"You know he's gonna want to take it home, Cuz," Elan said softly as he came to stand beside him.

"Yeah…thought he might," Deeks replied. "But, we can surf the whole week he's here. By then we ought to be able to talk him into leaving it at our house."

"Good luck with that," Elan huffed out a laugh and slapped him lightly on the back.

"When's Lily flying in?" Deeks asked.

"Couldn't get a flight until Friday," he replied, his voice sober and Deeks could see the tension in his jaw.

"Is she working a case?" Deeks asked.

"She didn't say."

"Taking the delay personally, brother?" Deeks asked as he turned to look at him.

"It might be the last time we're together," Elan replied, staring into space as he answered.

"You don't know that for sure."

"I know the circumstances of our relationship aren't going to change," he replied softly. "She doesn't want to give up her job and she sure as hell doesn't want to leave Paris for Saratoga, Wyoming."

"What about you? Would living in Paris be so bad? Or Normandy?"

Elan stared at him, finally shaking his head as he turned to look at his son. "We're Arapaho. That land and the ranch is our home and those horses give us a life. Soldier might adapt. He's young. But me? I'm Arapaho."

It wouldn't have been an answer for anyone else, but for Elan Hand it was the only answer he needed. Deeks laid a hand on his back and said nothing, knowing his cousin's heart was torn, because he loved Lily and she loved him. Unfortunately, sometimes that wasn't enough. He suddenly felt so grateful that he and Kensi didn't have that particular obstacle to overcome. He had made his decision and they would be able to make a life together and work together too, unless someone higher up the chain of command decided otherwise. Uncertainty returned with that thought, and he looked over at Hetty, who was staring back at him, her expression inscrutable as usual.

He'd often wondered if the woman could read minds. She could certainly read the tiniest change of expression on a person's face or the slightest nervous movement of their eyes, the tension in their mannerisms, or subtle changes in their voices. He wondered what she might be trying to surmise as she stared at him. He'd always prided himself on being able to keep his innermost thoughts hidden, and that ability had served him well undercover and in life, until he'd met Hetty. She had always been able to read him easily and throw him off balance whenever she chose to, and did when it suited her purposes. Now, as they held each other's gaze, he realized he knew exactly what she was thinking and he smiled cockily back at her. He saw her eyes widen imperceptibly, and he knew he was right. She suddenly gave him a tight, knowing smile. She had read him in return, both now certain that he had made his decision and would be returning to NCIS. Not a word had been spoken, but none had been needed.

When she looked away, it was to check her phone, and he noticed Callen doing the same, his eyes seeking Hetty's as they both moved toward the door. Something had happened on the case they'd been working, and Christmas dinner would have to wait.

"Callen?" He said his name softly as he approached, the need to assist so natural to him.

"Located our suspects," he replied. "And no…you don't need to come. Enjoy dinner and save me a drumstick and some dressing."

"What? No cranberry sauce?" He asked with a cocky smile.

"Too sweet. Overrated if you ask me," he said with a smirk. "Why ruin a perfectly good drumstick like that?"

"Sam gonna have your back?"

"Meeting me there," he replied as he followed him through to the door to the driveway.

"Watch yourself, brother," he said, suddenly worried for him.

Callen shot him a look that told him his comment hadn't been needed, but appreciated. Watching him go off alone had him feeling cut off from the man he'd been undercover with for over a month. He didn't like being sidelined, and it made him antsy.

"What happened?" Kensi said, suddenly beside him as Callen's car roared down the driveway with Hetty's Jag not far behind.

"Going after suspects in the case they've been working," he said, feeling irritable.

"And you wanted to go," she said, bumping gently against him.

"Yeah, I did."

"Sam will be with him."

"I know, but…" he said, unwilling to express his disquieting thoughts for fear he might jinx the whole thing.

"Bad feeling?" She asked, her voice full of concern.

They never discounted one another's uneasiness about any situation on a mission. It's what kept them alert and alive. Not being able to go with Callen solidified his decision to return to NCIS. Kensi wasn't the only one he wanted to protect. Callen was his brother, and Sam was too, and he felt a deep need to keep them both safe.

"You know they can handle it, Deeks," she said softly as she took his hand.

"Yeah, no…of course," he mumbled, trying to convince himself that everything would be fine.

"Come on, baby. Dinner's on the table," she said quietly as she pulled him back into the house.

The food was amazing, but he was distracted during most of meal, his mind continually returning to what Callen and Sam might be dealing with. Joe noticed, and so did Elan. After dessert, they came up on either side of him and nodded for him to follow them outside to the patio, taking the path into the garden. The low sun highlighted the grove of olive trees that screened the raw land that climbed the hill behind the house, reminding him of the place Hetty had confined him to after he'd been shot trying to protect a young boy. The silvery trees always made him sad.

"You're staying in, aren't you?" Joe said, the question sounding like the statement it was.

"Yeah, brother. I am," Deeks said easily. "You okay with that?"

"Would it make a difference if I said no?" He asked.

"Probably not."

"Told you," Elan said, slapping the back of his hand lightly against Joe's chest.

"You two have a bet going or something?" Deeks asked.

"No. Just wishful thinking, I guess," Joe replied. "Heard you stopped a kidnapping."

"Who told you that?" Deeks asked, surprised he knew.

"Hetty told all of us when she got here this morning," Elan said.

"Seriously?" Deeks said, unsure why he felt embarrassed.

"She sounded proud of you, Cuz," Elan said.

"All of us are," Joe added, before changing the subject. "You looked a little off during dinner. Something we should know or are you just worried about Callen and Sam?"

"Feels weird not going with them," Deeks replied, feeling unsettled again.

"You're part of their team," Elan said. "It's hard to stay behind. Messes with your head."

"Got something to share?" Joe asked.

"Second tour, I was part of a task force. We did long distance recon and went after HTVs… high value targets," Elan's voice grew soft as he spoke, and he didn't look at either one of them, simply stared into space. "We pulled a day raid and I managed to get hit…a superficial wound in my calf. Commanding officer made me stay in camp for a couple of days…"

"You okay, Elan?" Deeks asked, noticing his hand was now clinched into a fist.

"During a night raid, my unit ran into a large force that wasn't supposed to be there," he continued. "In the firefight, a couple of guys…friends…were hit. They made it back, but I always felt that if I had just been there…I could have made a difference."

Joe reached out to grip his cousin's shoulder, and Deeks squeezed the other. Neither one said a word.

"You're in a close knit team, Marty," Elan finally said. "It's hard to stand down when they're in harm's way."

"Yeah…it is."

"Do they have backup?" Joe asked. "A tactical squad?"

"I'm on leave, remember?" Deeks said. "No one will tell me anything."

"But you got a gut feeling, right?" Elan said.

"Yeah…just not sure why," Deeks replied.

"The 'why' doesn't matter, Cuz," Elan replied. "Trust your gut every time."

Deeks nodded and pulled his phone. He speed dialed Ops and got Eric, who sounded rushed, his usual lighthearted response missing.

"What, Deeks?" He snapped out. "Not a good time."

"Are Callen and Sam in trouble?" He asked, feeling a knot form in his stomach.

"Can't reach 'em," Eric blurted out. "Their phones are dead and the tactical squad Nell sent is still fifteen minutes out."

"Sonofabitch," Deeks spit out. "Where's Hetty?"

"I'm here, Mr. Deeks," she called out.

"Where are they?"

"We'll handle it, Mr. Deeks," she replied, sounding unfazed as always.

"Hetty, don't shut us out," he pleaded, his anger growing. "You know I'm coming back. Use us. It's our team too."

"All right, Mr. Deeks. If you're sure you want to do this right before your wedding," she replied.

"Won't be much of a wedding without Callen and Sam," he shot back, unable to keep the anger from his voice.

"Very well," she replied. "Eric…give him the location. Be advised Mr. Deeks. This might have been a trap, and you and Kensi will be walking right into the middle of it."

…

…


	32. Chapter 32

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 32_

…

The streets of LA were always clogged with traffic. It was the way of life here, unnoticed for the most part by natives or transplanted Angelenos who had long ago figured out how to deal with it or at least ignore it. Christmas was a different story. Today the streets were eerily free of all but a few cars and trucks and the occasional delivery van, a welcome benefit of the holiday. The sidewalks were relatively quiet as well, except for the crazies who were already trying to return or exchange unwanted gifts, or the random appearance of some lonely soul staring in at the soon to be replaced Christmas displays. A sense of transition struck him hard as he wove around a dawdling Mercedes. He had always disliked the lull between Christmas and New Years. It was like waiting for your favorite song to come up on your playlist, but you had to wait a week for it to begin. The new year would bring a new life for him and this morning he had been anxious to start preparing for it. But now, he worried that new life might be spoiled before it began.

As soon as he and Kensi had gotten in the car he'd felt the shiver of foreboding. It was if nothing had changed and yet everything would change if Callen and Sam had been lost. The silence in the confines of the car added to the tension, but there was nothing to say after they'd been given the location where Callen and Sam had gone dark. He prayed it was on purpose, a tactic they'd needed to protect them, but the tight tenor of Nell's voice dimmed that hope. She'd briefed them on the case over the phone as they drove, and he had pleaded with Hetty once again to allow Joe and Elan to take part. He understood her reasons for keeping them sidelined, but he argued there was no difference between this op and the one to rescue Joe in Louisiana. The warning in her voice shut him down, leaving him angry and frustrated.

Putting his irritation aside, he decided to concentrate on the details of the case. It had originated with a high ranking Naval officer who had blown the whistle on a colleague he believed was selling access codes to the guidance systems for the USA's Ballistic Missiles Defense System. After interrogating both men, it had taken Callen and Sam over three hours to break the accused seller, a man of Korean descent named Will Kang. It took another hour before he agreed to give up his buyers for a reduced sentence that would keep him from being sent to Guantanamo Bay. He revealed the location of a preliminary meeting he had set up and agreed to go with Sam and Callen when he met with his contact. They hadn't been heard from since arriving at a closed down Korean barbecue restaurant off West 8th Street.

Kensi checked her weapon as they crossed into Koreatown, and he took a quick look at her. "You good?"

"Yeah...other than being pissed that a Navy man might have set them up," she replied, her voice low and hard-edged.

"Not exactly how I pictured us spending Christmas," he said softly.

"This is what we do, Deeks," she said sharply, but turned to him with a quick, brilliant smile.

She loved being a federal agent and she was good at it. Under ordinary circumstances he would have made a wiseass remark, but knowing Callen and Sam were in danger kept him silent. He couldn't imagine being sidelined like Joe, realizing that he liked the action as much as Kensi. He felt they would be even stronger partners after they were married, committed to one another and to the job. It felt right to be partnered with her again. Having her watching his back added to his confidence.

"Heads up," she said as he roared through an intersection and slowed.

"Tactical squad's on it," he said, killing the engine and slamming out of the car.

The squad leader quickly approached. "Hey Deeks. Kensi. Ain't this a shitty Christmas Day."

"Not my favorite, Wes. Any sign of Callen and Sam?" He asked, already knowing the answer by his demeanor as they headed toward the open front door.

"Sorry, man. The place is empty," Wes replied as he followed their hurried approach. "Their car's down the block. Phones and guns are on a table in a back room."

"Sonofabitch." Deeks felt cold as he entered the dark restaurant, the only light coming from the open door at the end of the long dining area.

"No sign of a struggle out here," Kensi said, observing the undisturbed alignment of the cheap tables and chairs as they walked through.

"Here either," Deeks said as he stared at Callen and Sam's weapons on the desk in a remarkably spacious and expensive looking office.

"Good news is…there's no blood," Wes said softly.

"So, they just gave up their weapons without a fight?" Kensi asked.

"Wes? You have some comms we can use?" Deeks asked as he walked slowly around the large room.

The space was elaborately decorated in expensive woods, the prints on the walls not cheap either. The chairs were plush and the desk elegantly carved with traditional designs. Wes handed them both earwigs as Deeks stood in front of a jade sculpture that he was pretty sure cost more than his first car.

"Anybody else think this room doesn't fit with the restaurant out front?" He asked.

"Why do you ask, Mr. Deeks?" Hetty's voice strong in his ear.

"How much do you know about Korean antiques, Hetty?"

"Enough. Why?"

"Because the stuff in this office makes me think this restaurant was just a front for something else entirely."

"Send photos, Mr. Deeks," she replied. "Any computers Eric and Nell might access?"

"Not that we can see, but we'll keep looking," Kensi replied.

"Who's the owner of this place?" Deeks asked as he began pulling drawers open in the elegant desk.

"Supposedly, it's owned by a spectacularly unsuccessful businessman named Choi Soo," Nell said. "But he could be a front as well. Eric and I are digging deeper to see what we missed."

"Please tell me we didn't get Callen and Sam killed," Eric asked quietly.

"They aren't dead, buddy," Deeks said, hoping that was true. "You find who really owns this place and we'll find Callen and Sam."

He wanted to believe more than anything that they would find them. If whoever did this had disarmed them and wanted them dead, their bodies would be here in this room or at least in the vicinity. That last thought scared him and he quickly turned to Wes Hallock.

"Did your men search out back?" He asked, his heart racing as he waited for the answer.

"You mean the dumpsters?" Wes said flatly. "I've got men doing that now."

"Deeks…" Kensi looked stricken and hurried toward the open back door that led to the alley.

He didn't want to follow her. He didn't want to find them there, their vibrant lives taken from him. An image of Callen smirking at one of his ill-times jokes flashed into his mind, along with the comfort he felt when he threw his arm across his shoulder. He couldn't conceive of the loss, or of the emptiness that loss would bring. It wasn't fair that he should lose him now. After all those long weeks in that putrid swamp with The Brotherhood, surrounded by men devoid of basic human kindness, for him to lose his brother in some random case didn't seem right. It just couldn't be.

"Found two bodies, sir," a tactical agent leaned inside the door to say.

Every muscle in Deeks' whole body suddenly felt weak and he was unable to move. He stared at the man, trying to read him, but his mind was too muddled and he looked over at Wes, hoping he would ask the question he didn't want to. Kensi suddenly pushed past the agent, her eyes wide and alert.

"It's not them, Deeks," she rushed out breathlessly. "The men are Asian. Might be our traitor and maybe the owner."

She took his arm when she reached him, and he swallowed down the foul taste of adrenaline as he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath of relief.

"Eric? I sent you a photo of the dead guys," Kensi said, hers eyes never leaving him. "Who are we looking at?"

"Running them through facial rec and Interpol," he replied, and then mumbled something to himself. "Wait…that's Kang and Choi Soo."

"Why the hell would they kill the owner?" Deeks asked.

"Good question, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said. "Perhaps a front man they no longer needed. From what Nell found, I'd say he was a small time operator who conveniently owned a restaurant in Koreatown where they could easily hide."

"Who could hide, Hetty?" Kensi asked.

"North Korean operatives," she replied. "Who else would benefit more from what Will Kang had to sell than North Korea?"

"Sonofabitch," Deeks breathed out. "I'm grateful they didn't kill them, but why take Callen and Sam? I could see why they would want the access codes Kang was selling, but why take two federal agents along with them?"

"Because they're assets they can use to embarrass the United States," Hetty asked. "They obviously didn't get the access codes, so they killed Kang and went with what was right in front of them…two federal agents with high security clearances and a wealth of knowledge."

"Guys?" Eric said. "I've been running through the security camera footage from the shop next door. A van arrived in the alley about a twenty minutes ahead of the meet…"

"And, Mr. Beale?" Hetty urged when he hesitated.

"Six heavily armed men got out and entered the restaurant," he replied quietly. "I'm gonna guess they're Korean."

"Why so many men if it was just a preliminary meeting with Kang's contact?" Kensi asked.

"Eric, any footage from earlier that might show someone else arriving?" Hetty asked.

"Give me a minute…" he said. "A black Mercedes arrived slightly earlier than the van. Two well dressed men got out. Again, I'm gonna guess Korean. The younger one looks to be a bodyguard."

"So, the Colonel Sanders of Bulgogi shows up, and ten minutes later a truckload of security arrives?" Deeks said. "Why? What were they expecting?"

"Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna," Hetty said softly. "They knew they were coming."

"How?" Eric asked, sounding stunned. "Kang didn't make any phone calls…"

"But our whistleblower did," Nell said.

"Either they were in it together, or our whistleblower stole Kang's idea and sold him out along with Calllen and Sam," Hetty said, her voice trembling with anger.

"Sonofabitch," Deeks felt as if he'd been punched in the gut, his fear for both men roaring through him.

"He was in the other interrogation room in the boatshed when they left," Nell recounted.

"And I thanked him and let him walk right out the door," Hetty said.

"Did Kang know who sold him out?" Deeks asked.

"No. He didn't," Hetty said. "And if the two had been partners Kang probably would have implicated our whistleblower to save himself."

"So basically, this guy played everybody," Kensi said softly. "He must have the access codes."

"Mr. Beale? Find that Mercedes," Hetty ordered, her voice hard and full of fire. "Colonel Sanders is going to meet with our whistleblower himself, and we need to be there."

"What about Callen and Sam?" Deeks asked.

"Colonel Sanders is the one who knows the secret recipe, Mr. Deeks," she replied. "We get him, and we find Callen and Sam."

"Hetty? What's his name?" Deeks asked, choking out the question. "The whistleblower. What's the bastard's name?"

"Malcolm Harris."

…

A day of joy had turned into a nightmare. Tired and frustrated with waiting for Eric and Nell to discover the name of the Korean agent and track down his Mercedes, Deeks decided he needed to get some air. It was cold, but he didn't notice as he walked out behind the boat shed and stared solemnly over the water, watching the sun melt into the edge of the horizon. The day had brought a rollercoaster of emotions, but now he just felt numb. His phone buzzed once again, but he declined the call, unwilling to share his pain with the family until he had more answers. The footsteps behind him made him turn and Kensi wrapped her arms around his neck and he moaned his appreciation into her sweet smelling hair.

"We're going to find them," she said slowly as if emphasizing each word would make it true.

"Any news?" He asked.

"Eric and Nell widened their search," she replied as she stepped back and brushed her hand through his hair. "Hetty thinks they might be trying to get into Mexico."

The thought energized him and his mind sparked with ideas. "Crossing the border by car with two kidnapped agents is too dangerous. That Korean agent is too smart for that."

"That's why Hetty is having Nell check out boat rentals," she replied, her hands now moving up and down his arms.

"They should check for recent yacht purchases," he said, feeling agitated. "This guy, whoever he is, likes expensive things, and money doesn't seem to be a problem."

"I love you," she said, pulling him closer once again.

There was sadness in her tone and he stopped fidgeting to look down into her eyes. He leaned down and kissed her softly, wanting to comfort her as she was comforting him. She calmed him, and he wondered why he had ever thought about walking away from this job and leaving her with someone else to watch over her.

"I'm sorry I ever thought about leaving," he said.

"Don't apologize, Deeks," she said, kissing him lightly. "I knew once you cleared your mind and thought about it you would miss me too much to walk away. I'm the best partner you've ever had, and that includes Mick Rafferty."

"Oh, he's gonna love hearing that," Deeks laughed.

"And I love having you by my side," she whispered against his lips. "We're good together."

He smiled at her, warmed by her confidence and strength. "Forever partner partners."

"Damn straight we are."

He hugged her to him, drawing on her unconditional love. "Lets go find our missing wedding party. No way I'm letting the Korean Colonel Sanders ruin our wedding."

He took her hand and led her back toward the boat shed as dusk closed in around them. His thoughts turned to Callen and Sam, hoping they were coping with their situation and didn't do anything stupid. They were strong men and incredibly smart. If anyone could survive, it was those two. He had no idea what kind of man the Korean was, but Callen had managed to survive the depraved craziness of Antoine Guidry, so he began to gather confidence that his brother would find a way to make it through being kidnapped by a chickenshit Korean agent.

When they stepped inside the boat shed, Hetty was sitting primly on the couch surrounded by four men who looked as if they worked out every minute of the day and ate bad guys for breakfast. Wes Hallock separated himself from the group and stepped forward to shake his hand, his face a mask of determination and understanding.

"Hey Wes. These your workout buddies?" Deeks asked with a cocky grin.

"Far more than that, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said before Wes could reply. "Meet a few members of Commander Hallock's former SEAL team."

"You found them," Deeks said softly, staring intently at Hetty as she nodded.

"We found the Korean agent and his new boat, Mr. Deeks," she replied.

"I'm going to take a wild guess here and assume Callen and Sam are on that boat," Deeks said. "And Wes is in charge of their exfil."

"It's a bit more complicated than that I'm afraid," she replied.

"You don't know if they're on the boat, do you?" Kensi asked.

"And that's where you two come in," she replied. "We have identified the Korean agent, and he's not just any agent. He's high up in military intelligence with connections to the top tier of government officials."

She rose and led them all over to the big screen where Nell and Eric waited. "Nell. Show us who we're up against."

"Jung Ji-hwan is with North Korea's intelligence agency, the RGB," Nell began, the screen filling with a blurry photo of the man. "The CIA wasn't very forthcoming with information, but it appears he has been involved in several high profile kidnappings and assassinations."

"Up until now, he's been kind of a shadowy figure," Eric added. "The shot I pulled off the security camera in the parking lot is one of the few photos that exists of the man."

"Where's he now?" Deeks asked, his voice rough as he turned to look at Hetty.

"You were right, Mr. Deeks. He does have expensive tastes," she said gently. "He purchased a rather large yacht a few days ago, under an assumed name of course…"

"Where is he, Hetty?" Deeks snapped, unceremoniously cutting her off.

"Mexico, Mr. Deeks…along with Malcolm Harris as far as we've been able to determine."

"Dammit!"

"Not to worry," she replied gently. "Those two bastard aren't getting away from us. You and Ms. Blye will see to that, with a little help from Wes and his Fire Team."

"You're sending us to Mexico?" Kensi asked.

"Ensenada to be exact."

"Why is he stopping there?" Kensi asked.

"We're not sure," Nell said.

"I'm afraid he might be turning Callen and Sam over to another team," Hetty said softly.

"For advanced interrogation," Wes added. "Probably somewhere out at sea where…"

The thunderous look on Deeks' face made the man stop. "What's our cover and when do we leave?" Deeks asked, glaring at the man for needlessly stating the obvious.

"A helicopter is waiting to take you both to Coronado," Hetty said. "A rather nice looking yacht will be waiting for you there. Wes will be your captain and crew. Clothes for your undercover are already on their way. You'll assume the same aliases you used earlier when we tried to ditch the FBI…Eli and Jessica Masterson, the Hollywood director on his honeymoon with his starlet wife."

"Nell? Am I still a vegan? Or can I grab a street taco when I get there?" Deeks asked, trying desperately to distract himself from the image Wes' words had left in his mind.

"Full on Neanderthal, Eli," she responded gently.

"What's the plan?" Kensi asked.

"Eric has tracked Jung's boat to a slip in the port of Ensenada," Hetty said. "If everything goes according to plan, he will make sure your boat gets the slip right next to it."

"We'll arrive early tomorrow morning," Wes continued. "Set up surveillance. My Fire Team will be two miles out waiting for your order."

"What if they're not on Jung's boat?" Deeks asked, turning to look at Hetty.

"Then you'll find them and bring them home."

…

…


	33. Chapter 33

Breakthrough

Chapter 33

…

The darkness was the ocean. The unknown. It was where he directed his gaze, his heart thumping wildly along with the helo's rotor blades. His brothers were out there somewhere, and he was blind, going forward on one small bit of hope. He found himself unable to rein in his galloping anger. It was simply a part of him now, and maybe had been since he found out Joe was missing all those months ago. The similarity between then and now wasn't lost on him. It just pissed him off.

He briefly listened to the chatter over his headset as they approached the Naval Air Station at Coronado, but it held no interest for him. He would have no control over the situation until they reached Ensenada, and he struggled to be patient. Kensi tried to take his hand, but he drew away, not wanting to be comforted. His chest was tight, so he blew out his breath, anxious to be on the ground, to roar across the black water, to do something, anything to find his missing brothers.

"Agent Deeks? Sir?" The pilot's voice finally getting through to him, and he started as if just waking from a bad dream. "You have an incoming call, sir."

He looked at Kensi then and he saw her eyes glisten in the reflected light of the instrument panel. He reached for her, knowing she was as afraid as he was that Callen and Sam had been found and were lost.

"Mr. Deeks? Kensi?" He tried to read the tone of Hetty's voice so he could prepare himself. "I'm afraid you're getting a new team member. The CIA has sent an agent to accompany you to Mexico. His sole purpose is to recover the intel Harris turned over to the North Korean."

"Isn't that our mission?" Deeks asked, his voice betraying his irritation.

"The CIA believes we'll be distracted by our desire to rescue our people," She said tightly.

"Which, I'm guessing, is not on their to-do list," he replied bitterly.

"Don't dismiss the man out of hand, Mr. Deeks," she said. "Use him and whatever intel he has on Jung Ji-hwan to help you find Callen and Sam."

"Who is he, Hetty? Do you know him?" Kensi asked.

"I am making inquiries," she said. "When I have additional information I will call. Meanwhile, use your time on the trip down to pick his brain. You might find out something you can use."

"Will do, Hetty," Deeks replied.

"And Mr. Deeks? This is our mission. It is under my command, not the CIA," She said firmly. "If he tries to take over, both of you and Kensi have my permission to put him in his place."

"And where would that be?" Deeks asked, with a flicker of a smile.

"Anywhere you damn well please," she said, making Deeks smile at Kensi.

By the time the call ended they were on the ground.

"This isn't where we usually land," Kensi said quietly when the rotors stopped.

"This is NAB, ma'am. The Naval Amphibious Base," the pilot said.

"Spent a lot of time going in and out of this place," Wes said, as he opened the door. "This is a SEAL's hell and home away from home."

"Is your Fire Team here already, Wes?" Kensi asked.

"No, but they'll be there when we need 'em, Kensi," he replied.

They grabbed their go bags and walked off the helipad, and were warmly greeted by an officer in full uniform. "Command Master Chief Roland Aquino. Per Hetty's request, I'm to provide you with whatever you need."

"This crazy man held his breath underwater longer than any man on four SEAL teams," Wes said as he shook the man's hand. "Now he has a cushy desk job."

"Herding SEALs ain't my idea of cushy, Hallock," the Command Master Chief replied. "Nice look you got going there. Been a while since I've seen you in civvies."

"Just playing the part of a poor old workin' man makin' a buck off any charter I can get," Wes laughed.

"You two must be Agents Blye and Deeks," Aquino said as he turned to shake their hands.

"Yes sir," Deeks nodded.

"Got a man waiting down by the dock says he's part of your mission," Aquino said. "Not very talkative. CIA. Showed me ID and then turned his back."

"Hetty warned us," Kensi said, as Aquino led them to a vehicle.

"Left a guard with him. Didn't want him poking around in the gear Hetty had me load," Aquino said. "Don't trust the type."

The trip was a short one, and Deeks felt a surge of adrenaline when he saw the sleek yacht tied up at the end of the long pier. The wind gusted as they got out of the car, the palm fronds rattling noisily above them. The pier was deserted except for the guard and a man in dark clothing who was silhouetted against the white hull of the boat. He stood unmoving as they approached, and Deeks got an eerie feeling, as if he were walking into an old spy movie. The man was actually wearing a trench coat, and Deeks cracked a smile, feeling an itch to act like a wiseass to see if he could piss the guy off.

"A trench coat? Really? Reminds me of Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca," Deeks said with a cocky grin. "Or maybe you're going for James Bond…the Sean Connery version in Goldfinger."

"Bond is English. MI6. I'm more of an All-American boy...more Bogart than Connery," the man replied easily. "But hey…there was a Korean bad guy in that movie."

"Good to meet a knowledgeable fan," Deeks said, his smile fading quickly. "Will you be using an alias on this trip or your real CIA name…which is also probably an alias?"

"Have you always had trust issues, Agent Deeks?" the man asked, a sudden smile softening his rugged features.

"Both of us do. Now what do you want us to call you?" Kensi said, her irritation plain.

"Call me Braxton, Agent Blye," he replied, his eyes taking in everything about her. "And what am I calling you two on this little adventure south of the border?"

"Meet my wife, Jessica Masterson," Deeks said, wrapping a possessive arm around Kensi's waist. "You can call me Eli. I'm a Hollywood director and Jessica is an actress. We're on our honeymoon."

"And you, Agent Braxton? What's your backstory going to be?" Kensi asked, her voice and body language challenging the man.

"Just what you said. I'm your agent, Jessica, and we have history," he replied, his grin almost as cocky as Deeks'.

"And just why would I bring my agent on my honeymoon?" Kensi asked, her annoyance coloring every word.

"You know us Hollywood types…relationships are complicated," Braxton said.

"Well, this one isn't," Deeks snapped out.

"Think about it. There has to be some believable explanation for me being on your boat," Braxton replied reasonably. "This is just an assignment to me, and I'm not interested in complicating it. So, don't get all huffy and over protective, Agent Deeks. You two play your parts and I'll play mine and just maybe we'll all get what we want and come out alive."

Deeks thought he had just caught a glimpse of the true nature of the CIA agent. The man could role play, of that he was convinced, but he didn't trust him, not in the least. He wanted the intel back as much as anyone, but if he had to choose between getting it and saving Callen and Sam, he knew what his priority would be, and he guessed so did this guy. But he sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"How about we forego the staring match and board," Wes Hallock said firmly. "Lots of time to fill on our way down south."

Somehow the firm suggestion settled him down, and he brushed past Braxton and tossed his go bag over the rail onto the deck. The boat was beautiful, but wasn't overly big, and didn't look outrageously expensive for a Hollywood director to charter. It was sleek though, reminding him of Newton Pierce's yacht, and that made him swallow hard and take a moment to let the memory pass.

"You okay?" Kensi asked softly, entwining her fingers with his.

"Yeah…no…I'm good, baby. I'm good," Deeks replied.

"The spook getting under your skin?" She whispered, stepping in front of him to look up into his eyes.

"He's not what I was expecting," Deeks replied. "But, yeah he's a wiseass and a little irritating."

"That was the same assessment I had of you, Agent Deeks," Braxton commented as he passed by. "It takes a wiseass to know another."

"And that's a very formal way of putting it," Kensi said. "Very refined, in fact. I'd say you were either born in another country or raised on the East coast to privileged parents. Probably had an Ivy League education."

"Impressive, Agent Blye, but wrong," he replied, although Deeks saw his nostrils widen imperceptibly and knew he'd found his tell.

"Don't think so," Kensi replied, stubborn as always when she knew she was right.

"It will be interesting to watch how well you play a silly little Hollywood starlet," Braxton said with a smug smile. "All boobs and no brains."

"Watch your mouth, douchebag," Deeks growled and took a step toward the man.

"She's your Achilles' heel, Agent Deeks," Braxton responded. "I'd be careful your protectiveness doesn't get you killed."

"She doesn't need to be protected. She can take care of herself," Deeks replied.

"We'll have each other's backs," Kensi said. "Worry about your own, Agent Braxton."

"Is that some sort of threat, sweetheart?" The man asked, his voice low and flat and sounding a lot like Humphrey Bogart.

"No threat, Bogey," Deeks replied, feeling Kensi tense beside him. "But like you said earlier, you do your part and we'll do ours. She and I? We're partners, sweetheart. You're on your own."

Deeks saw the man's jaw harden, his eyes becoming almost feral before he let a smile slowly form. "So we understand each other, then. No 'one for all and all for one' scenario."

"Was there ever?" Kensi asked.

"If there was, I'd play D'Artagnan…no…Aramis," Deeks said, exaggerating his enthusiasm, and hoping to ease some of the tension.

"They're both handsome and sexy," Kensi said. "I can see Callen as Athos."

"And Sam as Porthos," Deeks said, continuing the game.

"And who would you be Agent Blye? Constance or Lady De Winter?" Braxton asked.

"You'll just have to wait and see," she replied.

"She's stealthy like Milady, but sweet and loving like Constance," Deeks replied. "The BBC version."

"Of course. After all, she does die in the book," Braxton said, his eyes narrowing as he watched their reaction.

"Definitely the BBC TV version, then," Deeks said, taking Kensi 's hand as he stared down the man.

He could feel Kensi's anger without having to look at her. This wasn't going well and he decided he needed to talk to Hetty, hoping she could give them intel that would ease some of his concerns. The deep growl of the engine as the yacht pulled away, distracted them all from their little confrontational game. Braxton took the opportunity to turn and walk inside of the main salon.

"Let's go up top," Deeks said. "I could use some wind in my face to clear the air."

"You go. I'm not letting that guy out of my sight," Kensi replied. "Our gear and our weapons are in there."

"Sounds like we both have trust issues," Deeks said and leaned down to kiss her. "Don't hurt him, Kens. I'm pretty sure he knows quite a lot about our Korean Colonel Sanders."

"You call Hetty," she replied. "I want to know everything she has on this guy."

"Will do, Captain Blye."

She playfully swatted him on the arm as she headed after Braxton. Things had gotten complicated, and he didn't like it. Taking a deep breath of cold air, he quickly climbed the ladder to the top deck where Wes Hallock was navigating his way under the Coronado Bridge. The wind was cutting, but he was determined to stay in the open until they were out to sea, needing the time to assess the man they were stuck with. Pulling his phone, he called Hetty, who picked up immediately.

"Mr. Deeks. I have a feeling things aren't going well," she said.

"They sure as hell are a lot more complicated," Deeks said, not hiding his irritation. "What can you tell me about this guy Braxton?"

"According to a friend, he doesn't work well with others," she said.

"Then why was he chosen for this assignment?" Deeks quickly shot back.

"Other than the fact that he's very good at his job…apparently he and Jung Ji-hwan have history."

"What kind of history?" Deeks asked, wary now. "Hetty, if Jung knows his face all our covers are blown."

"They never met face to face according to the intel we were given," she said calmly. "But he was very close to catching him once on a mission in Tokyo. Jung managed to slip away and your CIA friend spent three weeks in the hospital, the details of which are highly classified."

"Did he ask for this assignment?" Deeks asked. "Is he on some kind of personal vendetta?"

"According to my source he was chosen because he knows everything there is to know about this guy," she replied. "That said…if he is out to kill Jung, make sure he doesn't do it before you find Mr. Callen and Sam."

"What about Harris and the intel he stole?" Deeks asked.

"It's now believed that Mr. Harris did more than just steal access codes," she replied. "Those codes are in the process of being changed. Of more value is the backdoor Harris created that would allow the North Koreans access to our Missile Defense System."

"Sonofabitch."

"Yes he is, Mr. Deeks."

"Hetty? Can I trust Braxton?"

"My source said he bleeds red, white and blue," she replied. "But the person that said it knew him before the fiasco in Tokyo. Eyes wide open, Mr. Deeks."

"Of course."

"And Mr. Deeks? Your family has been quite anxious about your whereabouts," she said gently. "I think a quick call might alleviate some of their concerns, but give them no details and certainly no location. Am I clear, Mr. Deeks?"

"Got it."

When the line went dead he took a moment to gather himself, staring up at the huge aircraft carrier they were passing that was tied up at one of the piers. It brought back an earlier Christmas memory, one before he and the team had become so close. Callen and especially Sam, hadn't completely trusted him back then. Now, he knew they were counting on him and on Kensi to save them, and that was exactly what he was going to do. If Braxton could help him do that, then he would put up with whatever ghosts haunted the agent to get that help. He had his own painful memories and he understood how difficult it was to get past them, so he would give Braxton the benefit of the doubt. But if he lost his perspective, Deeks knew he would have a tough choice to make.

"Hey George. Hetty told me you were worried," Deeks said, smiling when he heard Elan in the background shouting something in Arapaho.

Before the call ended he had talked to everyone, assuring them he was fine, but on a classified mission. It was Joe who got him to admit they were going to find Callen and Sam. He didn't think that was classified.

"Son?" George said after taking the phone from Joe. "We'll be waiting for you when you bring them home."

Once again a simple sentence from the man he thought of as his father was all he needed to find comfort and send his confidence soaring.

"See you soon, George."

"I love you, Son," he said softly.

The sentiment surprised him and he blinked as tears blurred his eyes. George didn't say that very often even though he knew that was how he felt, and for a moment it seemed as if he were saying goodbye.

"Are you okay, George?"

"Won't be until you're home safe," he replied. "Will you be able to call again?"

"No…no I won't," Deeks mumbled. "We'll be using burner phones. We're shutting ours down."

"You take care of yourself and that fiancée of yours," George said quietly. "We're all counting on that beach wedding."

"Me too."

Talking to all the people who meant so much to him settled him down. They tethered him to home, to the things that were important. He loved them. They were family. They were the people he was protecting from bastards like Malcolm Harris and threats like Jung Ji-hwan. He stepped inside to have a word with Wes as they approached the mouth of San Diego Bay, the beacon from the New Point Loma Lighthouse sweeping across the darkness in warning.

"Are we there yet?" He quipped to Wes.

"Couldn't resist could you?" Wes laughed.

"Never gets old."

"I got three kids. It gets old, believe me," Wes said as he pushed the throttle forward and the engine growl deepened. "You got five hours to do what you gotta do and get a little shuteye."

"Not sure I'll sleep tonight," Deeks replied.

"Sleep when you can, kid," Wes said. "Sam would tell you that."

"Yeah, he would."

"We'll find 'im," Wes said firmly as he headed the boat into the darkness of the open water.

He briefly gripped Wes' shoulder and nodded, turning to head back down to the cabin where Kensi was watching Braxton. When he walked into the salon, Kensi was checking the weapons Hetty had requisitioned and Braxton was standing at the counter in the galley checking the spyware, with a tumbler of what looked like whiskey beside him.

"Hey, Sugarplum," Deeks whispered, bending down to kiss the top of her head. "How's it going?"

"Apparently he'd rather share his intel with you instead of me," she said in an aggrieved tone.

"Now, now Jessica, honey," Braxton said, taking a sip of the liquid in his glass. "You know I like to make my pitch to the top dog."

"What you drinking, Braxton?" Deeks asked as he put a hand on Kensi's shoulder to try and still her anger.

"Why? You have a preference or will any whiskey do?" The man replied with a cocky grin.

"I don't drink when I'm working," Deeks replied.

"You expect me to believe you didn't down a few in the wilds of Louisiana?" He asked arrogantly, his voice becoming low with distain as he continued. "Or after being tortured and almost killed by your ex-boss?"

Deeks felt Kensi rise beside him, his own sudden anger choking off any immediate response.

"I'm CIA. Don't look so shocked that I've read your files," Braxton said, swallowing down the remains of his drink.

"Want to tell us what Jung Ji-hwan did to you to turn you into an asshole and a drunk?" Deeks asked flatly. "Yeah, you're not the only one with inside intel."

"Fuck you, Agent Deeks," he replied stonily. "Or did someone do that to you already?"

"None of your business. You?" He shot back.

Deeks saw the man's eyes go deadly dark and his hand suddenly trembled as he gripped the glass in his hand. He had touched a nerve he shouldn't have, and knew he had to be the one to back away before their whole mission went off the rails.

"Sorry, brother. I was out of line, but so were you," Deeks said. "How about we stick to the mission and get this sonofabitch."

"Yeah, Eli. Why don't we do that," Braxton said, his voice strained, but his relief readable.

"Have you ever seen Jung? Up close?" Kensi asked, and Deeks knew she was trying to find out if he'd been compromised.

"Just through the scope of a sniper rifle," he replied quietly. "And no. I was never made."

"Needed to know that," she said.

"Of course."

He seemed subdued now, and that bothered Deeks almost as much as when he was verbally attacking them. The man was fighting to control himself, and Deeks understood that battle. Anticipating coming face to face with a man who had done you great harm played with your mind, and as much as you tried to talk yourself into maintaining self-control, actually doing it was terrifyingly hard.

"You want to kill him don't you?" Deeks said softly, needing the man to know he understood.

There was a slight flickering in his eyes, but then they cleared as he stared back at him. "I had him in my sights once."

"Did you miss?" Kensi asked.

Braxton laughed. "Jessica, honey. I don't miss. I was ordered to stand down."

"And you paid for it," Deeks said softly.

"Just like you did," he replied. "Ain't government work grand?"

"Help us get our people out first," Deeks asked. "Please. They're family."

"You have my word," he replied, his eyes dark as he poured himself another glass of whiskey.

…

…


	34. Chapter 34

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 34_

…

He stirred restlessly, the deep growl of the engines and unfamiliar movement of the boat keeping him awake until he finally just got up, leaving Kensi snorting softly in her sleep. He took a moment to watch her outline in the dark, smiling as she unknowingly moved closer to where he had just been. Dressing quietly, he slipped out of the room and headed upstairs to the main lounge. A little time alone so he could think would be nice, but as he slid the salon door open to the deck, he saw that wasn't to be. Braxton stood on the stern, staring out at the undulating wake, the fingers of both hands clawing back and forth through his dark brown hair over and over. Deeks wasn't sure he was even aware he was there until he spoke.

"I was a blond in Tokyo. Buzz cut short," he said. "Had an accent too. South African."

"What was your cover?" He asked as he walked up beside him.

"Arms dealer. A nasty one," he replied. "It'll be a nice change to play someone who just lives the good life and flirts with beautiful women."

Deeks made no comment, unwilling to wade into another argument with the man. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of the new designer jeans he was wearing and shivered as the cold air cut through a cashmere sweater he'd found in the wardrobe. Hetty had somehow filled the closets with expensive outfits for both of them, all fitting for the parts they were playing. He had no idea what kind of clothes Braxton had brought.

"She's beautiful. Kensi," Braxton said softly. "You doing her?"

Deeks stiffened and thought about hitting him, but he was pretty sure it's what the man wanted, so he didn't.

"You really are a douche," Deeks said and turned to go back inside.

"I work hard at that," he said with a strange laugh. "But you're in love with her, right?"

"We're getting married New Year's Day," he replied stiffly.

"Yeah. I can see that," he said quietly. "They gonna let you stay partners?"

"Don't know yet."

"Be tough if they don't," Braxton actually sounding as if he meant it.

Deeks stayed silent and made a move to leave, but Braxton spoke again. "I read the transcript of your debriefing. On your take down of Newton Pierce and company. Listened to the recording of the interrogation Harrison White put you through, too."

"Is there a point in there somewhere?" Deeks said slowly, suddenly exhausted.

"Figure you left a few things out of the debrief," he said, sounding weary himself. "Not that those morons would even know what questions to ask."

"Sounds like you have a few," Deeks said.

"Only thing I couldn't get was the psych eval," Braxton said.

"I passed."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Bet you still have nightmares," he said, gripping the rail tightly. "They're so real sometimes, aren't they?"

The comment shook Deeks and he moved to his side, afraid the man was unstable. "You okay?"

"Not gonna jump if that's your concern," he replied, sounding bitter and somewhat accusatory.

"I wasn't thinking that," Deeks lied. "You want to kill Jung too much to do that. Right?"

"Almost as much as I want to kill the man who told me to stand down."

"Probably not a good career move," Deeks said with a soft laugh, hoping to draw him out of his despondency.

"Had a partner in Tokyo. A woman. Japanese. Born in San Francisco. Her name was Miyoko. Means beautiful child…and she was," Braxton said softly. "But I screwed up and let my guard down. Got too close."

"What happened to her," Deeks asked.

"She slipped up and got made. Jung tortured her," saying the words quickly as if they had no meaning. "They found her body in the koi pond in Kiyosumi Gardens. They wouldn't tell me what he did to her."

"Sonofabitch. I'm sorry, man," Deeks said.

"She wasn't as strong as you were," he continued. "Didn't give me up, but gave up our safe house. Jung blew it up with me in it, and the rest, they say, is history."

Deeks could only watch as the man slid a flask from the pocket of his coat and took a long pull on it.

"If they'd let me kill that bastard, she'd still be alive. But, shit no," Braxton said bitterly. "Needed to recover the intel he supposedly had. Needed to find out his connections…needed that sonofabitch alive for some fucking reason. CIA bosses didn't give a shit about Miyoko. Collateral damage."

"You loved her."

"Dumb, right?"

"No, man. Human," Deeks said quietly. "Why did you stay? Why not get out?"

"That's a stupid question even for you, Deeks," Braxton sneered.

"Ouch," Deeks said, but accepted the rebuke. "How long you been looking for him?"

"Since September, when I got out of the hospital."

"Didn't they make you inactive for awhile?" Deeks asked.

"Tried. Went to my assigned shrink, did PT, and secretly trawled classified databases trying to find him."

"And when your bosses found out?"

"Weren't happy, but I'm too valuable, friend. Know too much about good ol' Jung Ji-hwan," Braxton said cockily. "Slap on the wrist and a blind eye was all I got. Then the asshole shows back up in LA and I'm returned to full duty."

"Wait. He's been in LA before?" Deeks asked.

"Off and on for over a year. Jung is fascinated with Hollywood," Braxton said, shaking his head, before looking at him intently. "Kensi will catch his eye. Especially if you and I do a jealous lover routine. Could be a way for her to get on his boat."

"We fight over her and he offers her a safe haven?" Deeks asked, feeling uncomfortable with the scenario. "It puts her at risk."

"Believe me when I say…we are all at risk," Braxton said.

"You just told me he tortured and killed a woman you loved," Deeks said, his voice rising along with his anger.

"I swear on my life, I won't let that happen to Kensi," Braxton said earnestly and then took a drink and leaned over the railing. "If you have a better idea on how to get your friends back…let's hear it. I'm open."

"You really think our friends are still on that boat?" Deeks asked quietly, trying to keep his worry and fear under control.

"Maybe. Unless he offloaded them on the way down," Braxton said.

The thought electrified Deeks. They had all assumed Jung was going to Ensenada because his yacht had a registered slip in the marina. What if Jung had never intended to reach Ensenada? He stared at Braxton and saw the man's eyes widen.

"He's not going anywhere near Ensenada," Braxton said, and they both turned and rushed for the bridge and the secure satellite phone.

It was barely three in the morning, but if what they believed was true, they couldn't waste any time. Deeks feared that with Jung's head start, Callen and Sam might have already been handed off to some ship at sea and on their way to North Korea. The thought numbed him, but he shook it off as they entered the bridge, surprising Wes Hallock.

"You boys ever sleep?" He asked, his expression full of curiosity.

"Need to contact Hetty," Deeks said. "We're afraid Jung might not be going to Ensenada at all…"

"Hand off could be at sea," Braxton added quickly.

"Shit!" Wes said, and throttled back on the engine.

Deeks took a deep breath and punched in Hetty's contact code on the built in sat phone. It took a moment, but Hetty eventually answered. "What's happened?"

"Hetty…We're considering the possibility Jung has rendezvoused with another ship. Callen and Sam could already be on their way to North Korea."

"I should have thought of that," she said slowly, and he heard the self-reproach in her voice. "If that is so, we need to find that ship. I'll get Nell and Eric on it."

"The Coast Guard might be helpful too," Wes added.

"Hold the line, gentlemen," she said, and the next voice they heard was Eric's.

"I'm checking the slip in Ensenada," he said, sounding hoarse.

"Did you guys even go home?" Deeks asked.

"Callen and Sam are like family to us, too," Nell said. "Hetty's on the phone with the Coast Guard Commander in San Diego."

"Jung's yacht left Marina Del Rey three hours before you guys left for Coronado," Eric said. "So he should be in Ensenada by now…but, he's not."

"We're right," Braxton said.

"Knowing that won't do us any good if we can't find the boat," Deeks reminded him.

"Bad news is…Jung went dark as soon as he got into open water," Eric said. "He disabled the AIS…that's the Automatic ID System. I got no way to track him. Sorry guys."

"Sonofabitch," Deeks said under his breath.

"If they're meeting a larger ship, even a small tramp cargo ship, the Coast Guard will be able to find them," Wes said. "They're all equipped with a satellite tracking device."

"But we don't know what ship we're looking for," Deeks said, feeling frustrated and anxious.

"A larger ship would also be equipped with AIS. They need it to avoid collisions," Eric said. "The important thing is, with AIS, it tells us the name, what flag it's under, location and speed as well."

"Well, it sure as hell isn't going to be sailing under the North Korean flag," Braxton said.

"Eric and I will check known intel on what flags North Korea might be using to camouflage their operations," Nell said quickly, and Deeks could hear the urgency in her voice.

"Wait a minute," Braxton said. "I read the after action reports on the Tokyo mission. There was mention of a small cargo ship. Can't remember the name. They suspected Jung might have escaped that way. I think it was operating out of the Philippines."

"Do they have its name?" Deeks asked.

"It's the CIA, friend. They always have names," Braxton said cockily.

"Hold on. We'll make a few calls," Nell said, and the line immediately went silent.

"Did your people just hang up on us?" Braxton asked.

"I think we're on hold," Deeks said with a brief smile. "They're techie wizard gods. They work faster when they tune out us mere mortals."

As the wait dragged on, Deeks began feeling the strain, and Braxton began to pace. They were both frustrated, and when Braxton walked outside, Deeks followed. Except for the yacht's running lights and the muted glow from inside the bridge, they were surrounded by blackness. Deeks could see a barely visible band of light along the horizon where the coast would be, and there were distant lights from other ships around them. Other than that they were surrounded by black water and a deep dark sky dusted with the stars of the Milky Way.

"Hang on, G," he said beneath his breath.

"Is that Callen?" Braxton asked softly. "You two close?"

"Like brothers."

"Lucky."

"So far."

"Keep the faith, friend," Braxton said and brushed past him to go back inside.

The operative's comment surprised him. It was upbeat and encouraging, two things he didn't associate with the man. His trust in him was growing, but he still felt unsettled, knowing that their chances of finding Callen and Sam lessened by the minute. Braxton remembering the Philippine cargo ship had given him a moment of hope, but staring out into the dark vastness of the ocean, that hope seemed about as big as the pinpoint of light from one of the faraway stars above his head.

"Deeks?" Kensi's voice jerked him back from the edge of melancholy and he turned to face her as she climbed the stairs to him. "Why aren't we moving?"

He stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug, welcoming her warmth and her strength. Then he told her everything that had happened and the tremulous smile on her face relit the speck of hope he was afraid had flamed out.

"They got something," Braxton said in a rush as he stuck his head out the door.

They all crowded around the sat phone as Hetty's voice filled the cabin. "Our cousins at the agency came through. They suspect Jung Ji-hwan escaped Tokyo aboard a tramp cargo ship named the Isabela operating out of Batangas Bay in the Philippines. When it returned to its home port, Jung wasn't on board."

"He's a slippery little sucker," Braxton growled.

"Stealing lines from Pretty Woman now?" Deeks snarked.

Braxton shrugged, but he flashed a brief grin of acknowledgement.

"Your roots are showing, Mr. Braxton," Hetty said.

"If by that you mean I like movies starring Julia Roberts, then you've got me," the operative replied. "Beautiful women are my weakness…"

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Deeks said quickly.

"Good Lord…there are two of them," she said softly. "Now, if you've finished overcompensating for your restlessness…I'd like to continue. Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna are waiting."

"Of course," Deeks said, feeling regret for joking while his brothers were missing.

Kensi bumped against him and took his hand in hers. Braxton stared at them, the expression on his face unreadable, but he felt a connection with the man and nodded at him, wondering if he felt the same. Braxton briefly closed his eyes as if gathering himself and turned to look out at the dark sea in front of them.

"Give us what you got," he said sharply, any lightness of attitude gone, replaced by the hard bitterness Deeks had seen earlier.

"The Coast Guard has located the Isabela," Hetty said.

"It's seventeen miles southwest of your location," Eric added. "And appears to be dead in the water."

"That's unusual," Wes said. "And dangerous in these heavily traveled waters."

"They've rendezvoused with Jung's yacht," Braxton concluded.

"We don't know that for sure," Nell said.

"I do," he shot back. "And we need to get there before Jung is finished with your people."

"You think he's interrogating them," Kensi said. "Personally?"

"Yeah. He gets off on it," Braxton said without looking at any of them.

"Why? I thought they were taking them to North Korea," Eric asked. "Why torture them now?"

"He wants to know if anyone's coming to find them," Deeks said.

"He already assumes that," Braxton snapped. "He has a big ego. He wants to be the one who turns them. Maybe get them to read a statement the North Korean government can use against us. And the best place to make that happen is at sea…where no one can hear them scream."

Deeks grabbed his arm and shoved him hard against the navigation table, unable to control his anger.

"You know it's true," Braxton said softly. "Knocking me around won't change that."

"Deeks," Kensi said as she pulled him away. "Eric. Send us the location of that ship."

"Calm down, everyone," Hetty said firmly. "Jung doesn't know you're anywhere near him. Having escaped once before, he may be over confident, believing he can't be found. That gives us the advantage."

"Deeks. My Fire Team is on a coastal patrol ship a couple of miles behind us," Wes said, squeezing his shoulder. "They can join us and we can make plans to board that cargo ship and get our boys."

"If they see or hear us coming…" Deeks was afraid to finish his sentence.

"They won't. Not if we disable our AIS and you boys and Kensi don't mind a nice swim," Wes said.

"I had your wetsuits brought on board, Mr. Deeks…Kensi. Just in case you needed to go surfing as part of your cover. I borrowed one from the SEALs for you too, Mr. Braxton," Hetty said. "Make your plans and keep us posted. Eric will stay on the line and monitor Jung's location. Sam and Callen are counting on you. We all are."

"Sending you the Isabela's coordinates," Eric said.

"I'll contact my Fire Team and we'll rendezvous three miles from the target," Wes said. "After that we'll get as close as we can in the Zodiac, and then hit the water."

Braxton left immediately after Hetty asked to speak with Deeks and Kensi alone, his parting look full of suspicion.

"I am letting you know that my CIA contact has some concerns about Mr. Braxton," she said quietly.

"What kind of concerns?" Kensi asked.

"Mental stability for one," she replied. "Their main concern is that he might go rogue on this, and kill Jung when they would prefer him captured for interrogation."

"We may not have a choice when we get on board," Deeks said cautiously. "What's their priority? Do they want the stolen intel or Jung?"

"I get the impression they would prefer both," Hetty said.

"They must know we can't promise that'll happen," Deeks replied. "And you know getting Callen and Sam out alive is at the top of my list."

"We still need that stolen intel, Mr. Deeks, and the man who sold it. Let's not forget about Malcolm Harris," she said. "This is not just a rescue mission."

"We understand that, Hetty," Kensi replied.

"Don't expect me to take out Braxton to save Jung," Deeks said. "I won't do that."

"Of course not, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said. "But I do expect you to do your best to keep him from killing Jung if he loses it out there."

"I will if I can," he promised.

"Hetty, you said something about Braxton's roots showing earlier," Kensi said. "What did you mean by that? It might help us connect with him."

"Mr. Braxton honed his craft by working in Hollywood for a couple of years," she said with a laugh. "First as a stunt man and then catching small parts in television until finally landing a significant role in a movie. I've watched the clip. He was quite good."

"Was this while he was with the CIA?" Deeks asked.

"Yes, but I wasn't given any details, so I can only speculate as to the why," she replied.

"Anything we might have seen?" Deeks asked with a grin.

"Why don't you ask him?" She replied. "He knows I'm telling you something about him. Better his Hollywood days than that the agency has their doubts about him."

She left it at that and after establishing a time frame with Wes, they headed downstairs to get ready. Braxton studiously ignored them when they entered the main salon. Wetsuits and breathing apparatus were scattered across the seating and on the floor. Deeks could feel the animosity from across the room and knew he needed to quell it before the operation began.

"I can't picture it, Kens," he said, his face breaking into a cocky grin, knowing she would pick up on what he was doing.

"Is that a pun, Agent Deeks?" She replied with a conspiratorial smile.

"Could be. They did used to call them picture shows back in the day," he replied, noting the quizzical look on Braxton's face.

"He doesn't look the type though," Kensi said.

"Maybe he was the comic relief," Deeks said, his grin widening. "Every movie needs one."

"Shit," Braxton mumbled, but there was a hint of a smile as he looked at them. "I'm guessing she told you I was an actor once."

"Couldn't get the name of the movie out of her no matter how hard we tried," Kensi said. "Care to share? Were you a bad guy or a good guy?"

"I'm sticking with comic relief," Deeks said, giggling and enjoying the look on the CIA agent's face. "Probably played the one the others picked on. Or…who got killed early in the movie and stuffed in the trunk of a car to piss off the star and send him on a rampage of revenge."

"Sounds like you watch a lot of bad movies," Braxton finally said.

"Come on, Mr. Hollywood. How embarrassing could it be?" Kensi taunted.

"You'll laugh," he replied.

"Already am," Deeks said lightly.

"Marie Antoinette."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Deeks. And yes, I was dressed in pale pink brocade and a powdered wig," he replied. "You can laugh now, but you should know I was quite good. Kirsten Dunst said so."

"Oh my God," Kensi laughed. "We have got to rent that movie."

"Did you get to keep the powdered wig?" Deeks asked. "Cause that would look awesome…"

"You done?" Braxton interrupted, his smile gone. "As fun and distracting as this little trip down memory lane was, what's about to happen isn't a movie and there's no script to tell us how this op will play out."

"Don't you think we know that?" Deeks shot back, his own humor feeling stale and out of place. "Those are our friends being tortured on that ship, not yours."

"And I'm committed to helping you get them back," he said earnestly. "But I'm not stupid. Your little improv was impressive, but I'm guessing your boss told you this is my last chance. Either I make things right or my career is toast."

"She didn't tell us that," Deeks replied. "She said they were concerned you'd go rogue."

"Can you promise you won't?" Kensi asked. "Because you have four people counting on you and a tactical team that is putting their lives on the line to help us bring our friends home. We need to know you understand that."

"If we have to look over our shoulders when we board that ship, somebody's gonna get killed," Deeks said.

"Well, you have my word," Braxton said. "If someone dies it won't be any of us."

…

…


	35. Chapter 35

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 35_

…

Deeks was helping Kensi zip up the back of her wetsuit when he heard her swear softly under her breath. The sliding doors were open to the deck and she was staring at Braxton as he stood at the rail, the top part of his wetsuit hanging loosely around his hips. Even in the dim light coming from the cabin, the ugly scars on his back were easily visible and hard to look at.

"How did he survive that?" Kensi whispered.

"Not easily," Deeks replied. "He's tough. No question."

She must have heard something in his voice because she turned to face him, her hands coming to rest on his chest. "Talk to me, Deeks. I know you're worried about Callen and Sam."

"I'm trying not to think about what they may be going through," he replied, taking his eyes off Braxton. "I just hope they're as tough as our CIA friend."

"You know they are," she said, brushing the hair away from his eyes. "We're going to get to them in time, baby. You have to believe that."

"You're right. I do know how tough they are…I've been there with them. I had to listen to them scream, Kens," he replied hesitantly. "Knowing they're suffering again pisses me off. God, Kens…what if…"

Her arms encircled his neck and she leaned into him as she hugged him to her. He held onto her, thankful for the comfort she was offering. "I love you. Whatever happens, I'll be right their beside you all the way."

"I'm afraid of that too, Kens. You shouldn't have to go on a raid a week before your wedding," Deeks said as he ran his thumb gently over her cheek. "It's not right. You should be giggling with your girlfriends and shopping for sexy lingerie for our honeymoon…or getting a mani-pedi."

"I'm going to do all those things, baby," she said with a confident smile. "After this is over and Callen and Sam are back home and safe, we'll all get mani-pedis together."

"Now I'm picturing Sam with those little spongy spacers between his toes," Deeks said with just a flash of a grin. "Thank you for that."

Braxton cleared his throat dramatically as he came in zipping up his wetsuit. "The boat with our back up tactical team just swung in beside us."

Deeks saw a shadow of regret in the operative's eyes when Kensi took a step away from him. As their boat surge forward, thoughts of the past and pedicures immediately disappeared, replaced by tactical concerns. He knew they were close to their target now, and he felt anxious as they followed Braxton up the stairs to the bridge. As their speed increased, the hull began to slap the waves and Deeks realized how rough the ocean had become. A lightening flash lit up the low thick clouds, and the thunder that followed was close and ominous as if foretelling the action to come.

"The rain will help cover our approach," Wes said, as the sky broke open in a heavy downpour. "Ten minutes, ladies. We'll board the patrol boat and go over the logistics."

The combined rumble of the two boats' engines and the turbulent waves sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through Deeks' body. Kensi already had her game face on, and he saw Braxton look over at her, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. When his eyes moved to Deeks, he returned his look with a shake of his head.

"She'd take you in any fight you can think of," Deeks said, and grinned.

"I doubt that," he replied with a hint of arrogance.

"Believe it," Kensi said firmly.

"When this is over, maybe we can set something up," Deeks said, trying to ease some of the tension.

"After this is over you won't see me at all," he replied, and then turned away and began checking his weapons.

"So, you're just going to raise your mighty, magic hammer to the sky and fly back up to Asgard?" Deeks asked cockily.

Deeks could see that Braxton was trying very hard not to smile, but he was losing the battle.

"You're welcome for the thunder and lightening," he finally replied, a quick grin punctuating his comment.

"Thor…meet Wonder Woman," Deeks said, sweeping a hand in Kensi's direction.

"And you are?" Braxton asked, grinning at Deeks.

"I used to be Spider Man, but today I think Aquaman might be more appropriate," Deeks said.

The sound of the sat phone buzzing pulled them back from their momentary silliness. Hetty's voice filled the cabin, and there was no hint of lightness in it.

"I have news, everyone," she said, and Kensi took his hand. "The body of Malcolm Harris was discovered in the waters off Catalina last night. A group of tourists on a sunset cruise got a very rude awakening I'm afraid."

"Just the one body?" Kensi asked, holding Deeks' worried gaze.

"Thankfully, yes," she replied, sounding as relieved as they were. "It took a while to identify the body. No ID, and unfortunately, no fingers either. Eric has been keeping track of every body brought into all the morgues in the area. Especially any John Doe. Because of where this body had been found he asked the coroner to send us a photo. Thankfully it was Harris and not Callen."

"I'm going to assume by his lack of fingers that he was tortured and not eaten by hungry fishies," Braxton said.

"The FBI was brought in to examine the body," Hetty said solemnly. "Their expert doesn't believe it was torture. It appeared as if the fingers were chopped off at the same time with one blow, except for the thumbs, which had the prints burned off."

"Sonofabitch," Deeks said softly, now scared out of his mind for Callen and Sam.

"He got greedy," Braxton said. "Probably asked for more money. Jung is tight with his money. He doesn't negotiate. Guess Harris learned that the hard way."

"So Harris gave him the intel on a back door to our Missile Defense System and than what? Pushed for a bonus?" Deeks asked.

"No one said he had street smarts, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said. "Now…how close are you to that bastard's ship?"

"We're in the middle of a pretty heavy storm here, Hetty," Wes said. "Good cover. Should be able to get within two miles instead of three before we launch the Zodiac. We'll enter the water a quarter mile out. ETA fifteen minutes."

"Wes. I want you to lead the rescue," Hetty said firmly. "As a former SEAL you have the expertise for this particular type of exfil."

"Yes ma'am. That okay with you three?" Wes turned to look at each one in turn. "Don't want any dissension once we get on board."

"We're good," Kensi said, answering for both of them.

"Sure," Braxton said. "It's your show, captain."

"I retired as a Commander, Agent Braxton," Wes said in a low voice. "You follow my orders. You understand? You get one of my men or these two killed or even slightly wounded, and I'll throw you overboard and make you swim home. We clear?"

"Yes sir," Braxton said flatly, his eyes narrow, almost feral.

"I'm sending you schematics of the interior of the cargo ship," Nell said. "If you need any other details let us know."

"Bring them home," Hetty said, and then was gone.

No one spoke after that, and Deeks blocked out Wes as he talked with his men on the coastal patrol boat. The description of Malcolm Harris' remains haunted him, and he could see the worry in Kensi's demeanor. She covered it by fixating on checking her weapons, especially her knives. He fought a sense of despair. His time with Callen in Louisiana had been a tough slog, both physically and mentally, but it had brought them incredibly close. The thought of losing him right before his wedding made him angry with the world and with himself. If he had made his decision to return earlier, he and Kensi would have been able to back up Callen and Sam. If they were killed, the loss would be too great to accept, too devastating to even put into words.

He was mired in recrimination when he felt the yacht slow down. The patrol boat was barely visible as sheets of rain swept across the choppy water between them. He looked outside and watched as the dull gray boat moved closer to the yacht. Darkly clad men moved purposefully on the deck until finally a metal ramp was eased across the space between them. One man quickly crossed, secured the ramp and headed up toward the bridge.

"This looks fun," Braxton said coldly. "Like pirates walking the plank."

"Except there's a ship on the other end instead of open water," Kensi said.

"I don't think you have any sense of adventure, Agent Blye," he said, smiling broadly.

"You don't know a damn thing about me," she shot back as a very wet sailor came in with the wind at his back.

"Ensign Cruz reporting for duty, sir," he said to Wes.

"Hellava morning, ain't it son?" Wes said. "You got the con, Ensign. Hold her steady. Don't want anybody taking a dive just yet."

"No sir."

"You ladies ready?" Wes asked, and pushed out the door and into the pouring rain.

They all descended to the main deck and crossed the ramp quickly, strong hands reaching out to steady them as they dropped onto the deck of the patrol boat. Following Wes, they moved inside and were unexpectedly handed mugs of hot coffee.

"Welcome aboard, ma'am…sirs," a young bosun mate said. "We have orders to take good care of you. We even brought doughnuts, ma'am. Heard you like to start the day that way."

"Sounds like you've been talking to our boss," Deeks said, taking a sip of the scalding and very bitter coffee.

"If her name is Nell, then yes sir."

Kensi smiled and said nothing as she rummaged inside the pink box and pulled out a chocolate glazed doughnut and handed it to Deeks. She held a glazed one out to Braxton, but he shook her off, so she shrugged her shoulders and took a big bite out of it. The patrol boat suddenly surged forward, cutting powerfully through the heavy swells. As they pulled away, a flash of lightening briefly lit up their yacht, but it soon disappeared behind a torrent of rain. When he turned around Wes was behind them in a wetsuit with his four man Fire Team, who he quickly introduced.

"This is Ponzi, Racker, Dallas, and Tig," Wes said. "All ugly. All good. They know your names and I've made them aware of your skills. Right now, I'm pretty sure they're only interested in Kensi."

"Ma'am," they said in unison.

"Call me Kensi," she said, without a smile.

"Will do, ma'am," Tig said.

"He's the dumb one, Kensi," Racker said, finally getting a smile out of her.

Wes led them into a wardroom where they went over logistics, the cargo ship schematics, and photos of Callen, Sam, and Jung. They were told who they were dealing with, but with few specifics, except the order not to kill Jung if at all possible.

"Any questions?" Wes asked.

"Just one, sir. Can these people swim, sir?" Ponzi asked. "Cause if they can only dog paddle, we need to know."

"Stow it, Ponz," Wes said sharply.

"We'll take that as a yes, sir," Dallas replied.

"Gear up," Wes ordered and the men filed out, picking up gear as they headed aft.

The ship suddenly slowed, and Deeks took a deep breath. He was ready, and quickly pulled on his hood and tucked in a couple of stray strands of hair as he moved out onto the open deck. Kensi handed him his goggles. When the ship came about he looked at Kensi and reached out to touch her cheek, now wet with rain. He saw the same determination on her face as his own and he was once again thankful to have her as his partner. He turned to look out over the churning sea, hoping to catch a glimpse of the cargo ship that held his brothers, but the sweeping sheets of rain obscured it. Wes shouted his name and he followed the others to the Zodiac resting at the stern.

There were eight of them, plus a coxswain and once launched the low hum of the Zodiac's engine could barely be heard over the blustery wind and rain and occasional crack of thunder. He felt anxious the closer they got, and the ship that was somewhere ahead of them was still invisible to the naked eye. It was Wes who eventually clapped him hard on the shoulder and pointed. A huge white yacht slowly emerged from the pouring rain with only its running lights on. It was tied up to a small, dimly lit cargo ship, and Deeks became flush with energy. The coxswain cut the engine and the members of the team prepped their goggles, pulling them down before slipping silently over the sides and into the turbulent sea. Braxton was the first of them to enter the water, and when Deeks felt Kensi go over the side, he followed. The swells were big and the ocean black, but luckily, they were fairly close to their objective. It was difficult to see, but he knew the members of the Fire Team were striking out for the yacht. He began swimming with powerful, even strokes, passing Kensi and coming up beside Braxton. He saw one of the SEALs pause and turn to look for them, but he had no idea which man it was. He simply put his head down and kept swimming. His calves and arms were burning by the time they reached the yacht. He saw a raised fist and began to tread water. A guard stood smoking on the second level, an automatic weapon cradled in his arm. He didn't seem particularly attentive and didn't see them or the two SEALs who submerged and swam toward the stern.

The wait was interminable and cold in spite of the wetsuits. He was bobbing up and down with each rolling swell and was suddenly pushed under water as lightening flashed above them. A loud crack of thunder greeted him when he came up, as did Wes, who gave him a thumbs up and pointed at the yacht. The guard was gone. The three of them followed Wes as he swam toward the stern of the boat, the other SEALs already making their way forward. Climbing on board they shed their fins and goggles and moved silently up the stairs to the bridge, which was luxurious and as big as their living and dining room combined. It was state of the art, but now its captain lay unconscious on the floor, his hands tied behind his back and his mouth gagged.

"Took out two guards and the captain here," Racker said in a hush. "No one else on board. No idea how large the crew was."

"Any sign our people were here?" Deeks asked.

"Yes sir. The laptop here on the nav table has a video up. Your people were conscious when it was taken," He replied as they followed him over. "Obviously pretty roughed up and definitely pissed."

"Time stamped?" Braxton asked as the video played, and Racker hit a key.

"Zero four twelve," Racker replied and checked his watch. "That would put it forty-two minutes ago."

"What are we waiting for?" Deeks asked, desperately needing to get to them.

"Tig and Dallas are making sure this boat don't go nowhere unless we want it to," Ponzi said.

"It'll be a no go if anybody tries," Dallas said as the two men entered the cabin.

"From here on out, keep it tight. Hand signals only," Wes ordered. "Move out."

When they reached the ladder that scaled the side of the cargo ship, Wes once again raised a clinched fist, and they all stepped closer to the side of the ship and took a knee. He pointed up as a guard peered over the bow and surveyed the area. Deeks became agitated the longer they waited, and he silently blew out his breath to try and control it. When the guard's head finally disappeared, Racker and Ponsi swiftly climbed the short ladder and slipped quietly onto the cargo ship. Gratefully there was no sound, and it was only a brief few minutes before one of the men leaned over the side and gave a thumbs up. Wes quickly led the rest of the team up the ladder.

The rain had lessened, but thunder still rolled and they paused whenever flashes of lightening illuminated the deck. Deeks saw one of the SEALs dragging a body behind the crates on the forward deck. Wes motioned Tig and Dallas toward the bridge, while Racker beckoned them to a hatch that led inside. Once in the passageway, they began checking each cabin they passed. They had no idea where Jung was holding Callen and Sam, and Deeks was feeling anxious the further inside the ship they got. They had seen or heard no one. Ponzi laid his head against the back of one hand, suggesting the crew might be asleep, and they all nodded.

The passageway they were in was almost completely dark, the only illumination coming from a single bulkhead light way down toward the other end. Braxton suddenly gripped Wes's arm and motioned toward the light. A man had stepped out of a door and yawned widely, stretching his arms above his head and groaning softly. He was armed, and looked to be Korean. They all pressed back against the bulkhead, and Deeks prayed he wouldn't look their way. An unexpected scream echoed out of the room. It was piercing and Deeks instinctively started forward, but Wes clamped his hand down hard on his shoulder, keeping him in place. The North Korean laughed and turned to go back inside, and Deeks wanted nothing more than to kill him. He heard someone yelling, and then he heard Sam, his voice strong, booming out into the passageway and giving him hope.

"He's not gonna do what you want," Sam shouted, his comment ending in a strangled scream.

That was all it took, and Deeks shook off the hand that held him back and moved forward, not caring if anyone followed. Before he reached the door, Wes managed to get in front of him and pressed his hand against his chest. He stopped, his anger so raw he was close to shoving the man out of his way.

"Deeks."

Kensi's whisper was the only thing that held him back. Racker suddenly pushed past him and Wes turned toward the door. The two men had weapons up and ready and slowly and silently crept toward the doorway. Deeks saw a flashbang in Racker's hand and prepared to go partially deaf even as he closed his eyes and pressed his back against the bulkhead. Wes nodded and the explosion reverberated all around them as they rushed into the small room, acrid smoke stinging his eyes and the gunfire deafening. A video camera on a broken tripod lay on the floor, its operator dead on top of it. He immediately saw Callen tied to a chair against the back wall, his head down and his body still. Even though the North Korean beside him was fighting the effects of the stun grenade, he held a bloody knife and Deeks shot him without hesitation. Kensi took out one of the men who made the mistake of charging her, and the other unprepared Koreans in the room were quickly shot down. He looked around the room for Sam as he rushed to get to Callen, and closed his eyes in relief when he saw Wes untying him. He became tentative as he knelt in front of his brother, full of relief and concern, but still bitterly angry over what had been done to him.

"G? You're safe, brother," he choked out. "I got you."

Callen raised his head and slowly nodded, his eyes red-rimmed and watered with tears from the smoke. "Can't hear you, but damn good to see you."

Kensi knelt down to cut him free, but swore when she saw that two of his fingers were badly broken. Callen strained to look beyond her, searching for Sam in the smoke filled cabin. Blood streaked the side of his bruised face and multiple cuts on his chest had stained the front of his shirt a dark red. When he tried to rise, his left leg buckled and Deeks hurriedly wrapped an arm around him to keep him from falling. A long slash across his thigh pulsed with blood and Deeks felt sick as he helped him limp over to Sam, who was holding his head with trembling hands.

"Sam? Sam!" Callen shouted louder than needed.

"G?" Sam croaked and stood to embrace his partner. "I thought he killed you."

"What?" Callen asked loudly.

"Never mind," Sam replied and smiled as he turned to pull Deeks to him. "What the hell took you so long, Deeks?"

Deeks, for once, was unable to make a joke or say anything at all. He stepped back as Kensi hugged each man in turn, while he stared at them, trying to let it sink in that they were truly alive and finally safe. Braxton broke the spell as he brushed past him to confront Callen and Sam.

"Where's Jung Ji-hwan?" He demanded.

"Who the hell are you?" Sam asked as he helped Deeks ease Callen down in the chair.

"Braxton. CIA," he replied sharply. "Now where the hell is he?"

"Does it look like he'd tell us where he was going?" Callen asked weakly.

"Back off, Braxton," Deeks growled, getting in his face and pushing him backwards.

Braxton shoved back, and they struggled against one another until Wes yelled for them to stop and Kensi moved up to help push the man away.

"Did you forget about the intel, Deeks? Or the backdoor he knows about?" Braxton sneered. "Nice little reunion you got going, but Jung is the main objective here. Not your friends."

"He's right, Deeks," Callen said. "Go get the bastard. We're fine."

"I'm not going anywhere until you two are off this ship and getting medical care," Deeks said. "You're both bleeding, so don't tell me you're fine."

"Divided loyalties will come back to haunt you, man," Braxton said coldly. "You can't let your emotions get in the way of the mission."

"Seriously? Is that what happened in Tokyo?" Deeks asked. "Or did you choose the mission over Miyoko?"

Braxton flinched ever so slightly, and within a split second his gun was pointed at Deeks' face.

"Don't even think about it, mister. You won't survive," Wes said as he and the SEALs immediately raised their weapons in Deeks' defense.

"It wasn't your fault, Braxton," Deeks said softly. "You would have saved her if you'd had the chance. Just like I'm doing with Callen and Sam. They're my brothers, and I'm thankful we found them alive. If that makes me emotional, so be it. Wouldn't you have felt the same if you could have saved Miyoko?"

Braxton lowered his gun, his expression unreadable. Then he turned and walked out the door.

…

…


	36. Chapter 36

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 36_

…

The abrupt rattle of semi-automatic weapons broke the silence that had settled over the cabin. Deeks shot a quick look at Callen, knowing that none of them were safe just yet. The look he got in return was the fierce one he always saw when they were about to go into a firefight. Sam had a resigned look on his face and stepped forward, holding out his hand to Wes.

"I know you carry an extra," Sam said. "All of you go. We'll shelter in place. I'd go with you, but I can't leave Callen alone."

Wes pulled a .45 pistol from his thigh holster, handing it and a second clip to Sam.

"We'll secure the rest of the crew and anybody else we find," Wes said, before turning and heading quickly out the door, followed by his men.

Kensi picked up one of the Korean's semi-automatic rifles and handed it to Callen, who nodded wearily.

"One of us should stay," Deeks insisted.

"I think he's lost faith in us, Sam," Callen said with a smirk.

"We're armed now, so go. Shut the door behind you," Sam ordered. "Believe me, anyone who tries to get in and ain't wearing a wetsuit, will be dead before they get a foot in the door."

"Sam's a little pissed about his new scars," Callen said. "You two go get that bastard. The intel too. We lose that…we went through all this for nothing."

"But, you're both bleeding," Kensi said, and Deeks could see the concern in the tightness of her jaw.

"I'll take care of it, now go," Sam said. "Find the communications room. There's been some power problems. From what I overheard I don't think Jung was able to send what he had."

"I don't think he wanted to. Too arrogant. He was bragging…big time. Wanted to make sure he got all the credit," Callen added.

"Wait…you speak Korean?" Deeks asked.

"We both do," Sam said.

"You sound surprised," Callen said with a soft grin.

"Seriously?"

"Let's go, Deeks," Kensi said. "Not sure I trust Braxton not to shoot the guy."

Deeks finally smiled and reached out to Callen and they clasped hands. Sam pulled him close before shoving him toward the door, and with one final look Deeks stepped out into the passageway and pulled the door closed. As he tried to recall the schematics of the ship, Kensi turned right, motioning him to follow. He trusted she already knew where to go, and followed her into the dark. Gunfire echoed above them as she paused at a hatch. Kensi covered him as he stepped inside and made his way up the ladder. He heard nothing, and risked a quick look to get his bearings. When he saw no one, he moved up, covering Kensi's assent.

"Communications should be second door on the left," she whispered.

They carefully peered into the dim passageway. Kensi covered him as he stepped out of the hatchway, looking both ways before moving toward their destination. There was a glimmer of weak light coming from the compartment, and he held up a fist as he paused to check it out. He took up position next to the door, and nodded for Kensi to breach. As she moved forward the door was yanked open, the man inside only able to get off one shot before Deeks fired a burst into his chest.

"Kens? You okay?" He felt a ripple of fear until she whispered she was good, tapping his shoulder as she followed him into the room.

The room was semi-dark and overly warm, and most of the equipment looked dead, except for one dated computer which was frozen on lines of code. The satellite communications console had been shot to pieces, and Deeks turned to look at Kensi.

"Braxton," they said in unison.

"Do you think he found Jung?" Kensi asked.

"No," Deeks replied. "I'm thinking Jung is trying to get back to the yacht. It has power and satellite comms."

"And, it's his only chance for an escape," Kensi added.

"Thought the guys disabled it," Deeks said softly, as he slid his hood back and ruffled his hair.

"There's still a tender on board," she replied.

"I'm guessing that's not a reference to Love Me Tender by Elvis," He said, grinning and feeling slightly embarrassed that he had no idea what she was talking about.

"It's a small ship to shore boat," he said smugly. "A dinghy for those unfamiliar with naval lingo."

"Won't a little dinghy be dangerous in a sea as big as this one?"

"On a yacht the size of Jung's, the tender is probably pretty good sized," she said as she checked the passageway. "It wouldn't be a fun trip, but it's doable."

"I love it when you sling Navy lingo," Deeks said with a slow grin.

"I'll sling more after we get the intel away from this guy," she replied. "Lets go. It's clear."

"Aye, aye, Captain Blye," he said softly as he followed her into the dark passageway.

Ahead of them they saw an open hatch that led to an outside overlook and as they stepped out into the slashing rain they heard the sound of a winch. Two men below them were trying to lower a lifeboat. As they took up position to engage them, Dallas and Tig came up from a lower level and one of the men immediately opened fire on them. Tig went down and Deeks and Kensi fired, killing both North Koreans. Kensi rushed to help Tig, but as Deeks started to follow, a rough hand covered his mouth and he was yanked back inside, a knife instantly pressed up under his jaw.

"Drop gun," a harsh voice whispered in his ear, and he quickly did as ordered. "Get me off boat or I cut throat."

He gripped the North Korean's arm, the man's muscles flexed and powerful as he dragged him back down the hall. His mind and heart were racing as he tried to devise how to get out of his hold without getting himself killed. He felt a trickle of warm blood as the knife pressed deeper, so he had to try something. Remembering lessons learned from Sam and practiced with Kensi, he took the risk of going for the knife strapped to his thigh. When he dropped his hand the man realized what he was doing and sliced his own knife down across his forearm, then slammed him face first into the iron bulkhead. He sank to his knees, his mind groggy with pain. The man stood over him, his fingers clawing into his hair, his strangled rant sounding distant and unintelligible. He struggled to reach his knife again, but his hand was now slick with blood, and his hope was fading.

"Hey! Asshole!"

The shout made the Korean turn as the sharp report of a gunshot echoed through the narrow passageway. Deeks jerked back as the Korean tumbled over onto the deck, the side of his face shattered and dark with bloody gore. When he looked up, Braxton was kneeling beside him.

"Deeks? You okay, man?" He asked, actually sounding concerned.

Deeks couldn't find any words as he stared back down at the massive man lying dead in front of him. The tank top the man wore bore the insignia of North Korea's Special Operations Force, part of an elite military unit, and Deeks closed his eyes and finally let out a breath, knowing just how close he had come to death.

"Deeks," Braxton's voice sounded urgent. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah," he choked out, and Braxton helped him to his feet.

"Did he cut you anywhere else?" He asked, checking him over closely.

"No. I'm fine."

"Deeks?" Kensi shouted as she rushed toward him.

"Hey, Kens," he said as he leaned back against the bulkhead, trying to gather himself.

"I'll go find some med supplies. You're bleeding pretty bad," Braxton said, leaving them alone.

"God, baby. I'm so sorry. I should have realized you weren't behind me," Kensi said, her voice choked and angry as she reached out to lightly touch his wounded arm.

"Happened fast. How's Tig?"

"Pretty bad, but Dallas said he'll make it," she replied. "How about you?"

"Braxton saved my life."

She seemed stunned for a moment, but nodded as she brushed a clump of hair away from the bloody contusion on his forehead. "Guess I'll have to take him off my shit list…maybe even invite him to the wedding."

"Don't get carried away, Agent Blye," Braxton said as he came up behind her. "The CIA doesn't do weddings."

"Really?" Deeks said.

He winced as Braxton began wrapping gauze tightly around and around the bleeding wound on his arm. The man's actions surprised him, and he was unexpectedly gentle. Kensi took some of the gauze and began dabbing at the blood on his forehead and then around his nose, until he smiled and took it from her.

"I'm good, Kens," he said quietly.

The operative assessed him with a critical eye as he finished tying off the bandage. "We need to move. You dizzy? How's your vision?"

"Good enough to shoot the next bastard that tries to grab me," he replied.

"Should have seen this one," Braxton said.

Deeks pulled his arm away, and Kensi turned to confront the man, who raised his hands defensively.

"Don't get all protective, Wonder Woman. Just a warning about who we're up against. The entire crew is military. Most probably SOF. They're mean sonsabitches, and they're in survival mode right now."

"We're good to go," Kensi said.

"Did you ever get eyes on Jung?" Deeks asked, deciding to let the man's insult pass.

"No, but he'll try for the yacht," Braxton replied. "He'll have at least one bodyguard. Maybe more. Like this guy. These SOF guys are true believers and all they do is train, so watch yourselves. Wouldn't want you to miss your own wedding."

"Copy that," Deeks said, locking eyes with Kensi before following the agent up the passageway.

Stepping out of the forward hatch, the wind blew the rain straight into their faces, making it difficult to see. Sporadic bursts from automatic weapons signaled the locations of at least two firefights, a worrying situation considering Wes was down one man. They still had no idea the force they were up against, but Deeks knew their mission would fail if they didn't get to Jung before he sent the intel he had. As they made their way toward the rope ladder leading down to the yacht, they saw Wes and Racker taking up positions behind some of the cargo stacked on deck. Deeks managed to get their attention and patted his chest and motioned toward the yacht. Getting a thumbs up, they crouched briefly as Wes and Racker laid down covering fire and then rushed toward the rope ladder amidships. Before they could reach it they were fired on by a sniper on one of the upper decks. They managed to dive behind some equipment, but as they returned fire, Braxton made another run for the ladder. He faltered as bullets sprayed around him, and was in danger of being killed until Kensi located the sniper and shot him down. As the man fell to the deck below, Deeks quickly turned to check on Braxton, but he'd already gone over the side.

"I'll cover you," Kensi said, and he ran to follow Braxton down to the yacht.

As he slipped over the rail, he saw a smear of blood that was quickly being washed away by the rain. Braxton was hit. He looked down to the yacht's deck fearing he would see him collapsed at the bottom, but thankfully saw no one. He turned back and yelled for Kensi, covering her as she made a dash for the ladder.

"Braxton's wounded," Deeks said as they made their way down, dropping silently onto the slick deck.

"There's a sat phone on the bridge," Kensi said softly. "We need to call in the Coast Guard. We need an air rescue. If Braxton was hit, that makes four wounded now, plus you. In this weather that trip back by boat is going to take too long, especially for Tig."

"We need to find Jung first," Deeks said. "And just to clarify, Kens…I'm fine."

"I know, but it'll take them a while to get here," he could see the worry on her face and he loved her for her concern.

"Better warn them they'll be flying into a firefight, unless Wes and the guys get control up there," he said, noticing that the gunfire was growing more sporadic.

"I'll let Ensign Cruz know," she said as they hurried up the ladder to the bridge. "He can call in a rescue chopper and then bring the patrol boat up to take us home."

"And here I thought we'd get to take this big ritzy yacht for a spin," shooting her a quick grin as they entered the slightly warmer confines of the bridge.

Deeks took a moment to shake the rainwater from his hair, while Kensi moved immediately to the sat phone. While she was making the call, he wondered what had happened to the yacht's captain and walked over to where he had last seen him.

"Kens…" Deeks called out. "Tell me one of our guys didn't slit the captain's throat."

"What?"

They both stood staring down at the man, now lying in a pool of dark blood, his eyes open and his hands still tied behind his back.

"Sonofabitch."

"Why would Jung do this?" Kensi asked. "Doesn't he need this guy to drive this thing?"

"Maybe it wasn't Jung," Deeks said softly.

"His bodyguard maybe?"

"Or Braxton," Deeks said, sorry the thought had even entered his mind.

He knew Braxton was determined to bring Jung down, but he didn't think he would murder a man in cold blood. Thinking about it, he had only known the agent for a little less than eight hours. What the hell did he really know about him, other than he was a wiseass, arrogant as hell, and hated Jung Ji-hwan? Maybe for him hate was reason enough to kill a man who might be able to help Jung escape. He understood the hate. The urge to wreak vengeance on a man who had almost taken your life was a powerful thing. That kind of hate could cloak you in darkness and hold you captive until you either slaked your thirst or found a way to let it go. He more than anyone understood that, but the man lying dead at his feet had not wronged Braxton, making his death shocking and merciless.

"Deeks. If he did this, we have to find him," Kensi said urgently. "The CIA wants Jung alive."

They headed for the interior circular stairway that led down to the grand salon. They silently made their way down, but sudden laughter made them pause. Deeks was surprised to hear several voices and he felt Kensi grip his shoulder. They had no idea where Braxton was or if he was even alive. Then they heard him scream.

"You CIA?" A harsh voice asked.

"You an asshole?" Braxton asked weakly, but there was a hint of cockiness in his voice.

"Tell me where you hide flash drive," the man demanded.

Kensi looked quickly at Deeks and he smiled. Somehow, Braxton had managed to grab at least one piece of the stolen intel before being caught by Jung and his bodyguards. Now they had to stop his torture and apprehend Jung. Deeks cocked his head at Kensi and prepared to step into the middle of the action.

"Federal agents," they shouted in unison as they moved into the room.

A huge man immediately turned and fired on them. Kensi shot him down before they had to dive for cover, as an angry looking Korean brought up his automatic weapon and began spraying the room with bullets. When Deeks looked to see how Braxton was, the bald man who'd been looming over him was already charging out the door on the far side. Braxton was tied to a chair, blood pooling on the floor beneath him from a bullet wound in his thigh. A small knife protruded from his chest. He was yelling curses at the man who quickly disappeared out into the rain, until the remaining Korean knocked him senseless before running for the door. Deeks fired, and the man crashed into the fully stocked bar, shattering multiple bottles of liquor as he collapsed onto the floor. Kensi moved to secure the weapons while Deeks knelt beside Braxton.

"Hey," he said, squeezing his arm to wake him.

"Go get that bastard, Deeks," he groaned. "And pull this fucking knife out."

"No," Kensi said firmly. "Leave it. We pull it and you might lose even more blood."

"Don't marry her, Deeks. She's got a real mean streak, man," Braxton said as she untied him.

"Shut up. I'm trying to help you," she snapped.

"Where'd you hide the flash drive?" Deeks asked as he stood to go after Jung.

"I swallowed it."

"Seriously?" Deeks grinned. "That's gonna be a messy recovery. May even be painful."

"Stinky as hell too," Braxton said weakly before sliding unconscious to the floor.

"Stay with him, Kens. I'm going after Jung."

"Stay safe," her voice full of warning and fear. "I can't lose you, Deeks. I don't care what the CIA wants…you shoot him if you have to."

"Whatever happens, Kens. Know I love you more than anything in this world."

She stood and kissed him fiercely. "You come back. You hear me? You come back to me."

"That's the plan, Sugarplum."

He kissed her quickly and then headed after Jung, slamming outside and searching his memory for the layout of the yacht that Eric had sent them just after they left Coronado. The rain was being whipped sideways by the wind, and lightning sliced across the sky. As he moved down the walkway along the side of the boat searching for the stairway to the lower deck, he heard a winch start up. Jung was trying to launch one of the tenders, as Kensi called them. He rushed toward the stern, grabbing onto the rail when the rough seas made him lose his footing. He slowed when he found the stairs, creeping down to the bottom with his gun leading the way. A wide hatchway was open to the sea, and a good-sized boat was slowly being winched out over the churning waves. The deck was awash as waves crested and battered the side of the yacht, and he could hear Jung yelling in Korean, cursing he assumed. The man had his back to him, and he could see no weapon.

"Jung Ji-hwan! You're under arrest!"

The man didn't even flinch, and Deeks wasn't sure he'd even heard him over the sound of the winch and the roar of the wind and waves. He moved closer and called out again.

"It's over, Jung."

The man suddenly swung around, on him before he could fire, knocking the gun from his hand as he took him to the deck. He choked as Jung's hand closed around his throat, so he slammed his fist into the man's ribs again and again until he felt his hold weaken. Deeks flipped him over onto the deck, but the man fluidly scrambled to his feet and smiled, dropping into a traditional Taekwondo stance.

"I should have just shot your sorry ass," Deeks said as he got to his feet.

"Yes," he replied, still smiling as he moved slowly and deliberately around him. "Now I will kill you."

"Playground rules, then?"

Jung's eyes narrowed at the comment and Deeks knew he didn't understand. "My partner could take you with all this fancy stuff. Me? I'm more of a street fighting aficionado."

Jung spun and aimed a kick at his face, but Deeks dropped and drove his shoulder into the man's groin, slamming him onto the deck. A wave suddenly washed over them both and Deeks lost his grip on the man. Jung drove his heel into Deeks' chest and he gasped for breath, coughing up seawater and struggling to breathe, his eyes stinging as he searched for him. Deeks found him near the edge of the hatch, the large dinghy swinging precariously out over the ocean just beyond him. When he saw him lean over, Deeks realized he'd found his gun. He pushed himself up and onto his feet and charged, crashing into Jung as he fired. They sailed out over the edge and the dark waters rose up to swallow them.

…

…


	37. Chapter 37

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 37_

…

Kensi managed to get Braxton onto one of the sofas, his blood instantly staining the cream-colored leather. He was barely conscious, pale and clammy, but he kept mumbling Deeks' name and that of the woman Miyoko. She'd tied a bar towel as tightly as she could around the bullet wound in his thigh, but as hard as it was to look at, she still resisted the urge to remove the knife from his upper chest. Instead, she packed as many towels around it as she could find. Although she knew one of them had needed to stay with Braxton, she still regretted that she wasn't backing up the man she was going to marry in a few days. She hadn't liked the idea that Deeks had gone after Jung alone. It scared her. She knew he could take care of himself, but she also knew Jung was dangerous and vicious, and she couldn't dispel the fear that nagged at her. Her mind jumped from the firefights to the joy and relief of finding Callen and Sam alive, and then thoughts about her upcoming wedding plans intruded, making her antsy to go find him. She'd heard no gunfire, and wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad omen. Whichever it was it made her anxious, so when footsteps sounded outside, she picked up her weapon and pointed it toward the door, ready to fire.

"Federal agents!" The voice was so familiar it brought a flush of tears to her eyes.

"Sam?" She hurried around the sofa to greet him as he stepped inside. "You shouldn't be here."

"We told him we could handle it, but he insisted," Wes said. "Firefight's over and Jung's men are either dead or down. Bastards fought hard till the end."

"A SEAL named Ponzi is staying with G and his wounded buddy," Sam said as he looked around the room before staring down at Braxton. "Looks like he went through the same hell Callen did."

"He's tough. Recovered the flash drive with the intel, too," she said. "Swallowed it."

"So, he's dedicated," Sam said with a grin. "Where's Deeks. And Jung Ji-hwan?"

"Jung got away. Deeks just went after him," she said and turned to head out to find him. "Jung is trying to launch the tender, but the winch stopped a few minutes ago."

"Any gunfire?" Wes asked.

"No, but Deeks still might need backup," she replied, irritated by the delay.

Dallas stepped into the room and Wes ordered him to stay with Braxton. "Get Cruz on the horn and get us a rescue chopper and our patrol boat in here…"

"Already done. Now can we go?"

"Yes, ma'am," Wes said firmly, and shoved a new clip in his pistol and followed Kensi and Sam out the door.

The wind was still strong, but the rain had lessened considerably. The low hanging clouds were now a steel gray, and Kensi realized the sun was almost up, not that they would see it. The sea was still dark, the waves high and rolling with whitecaps that slapped against the side of the boat, making their walk toward the stern treacherous. When they reached the stairs, Sam gripped Kensi's shoulder and started to take the lead. She resisted, but he glared at her, making her angrier than she already was. The sound of a gunshot startled them all, fear and adrenaline pushing them into action. When they reached the bottom of the stairs she strained to hear any voices, but the only sound she could make out was the jangle of chains as the tender swung back and forth from the winch that held it.

"Deeks?" Kensi yelled his name as the three of them spread out.

"Clear," Wes said as he walked around the lower deck that was awash in seawater.

She became desperate as she searched for any sign of him or of Jung, but the area was empty. When she turned, she saw Sam standing at the edge of the outside hatch, looking out at the chaotic sea and her heart went cold.

"No…no, no," she murmured as she moved toward Sam. "No, Sam. Please. Tell me he's not out there."

"He's a strong swimmer, Kens…" Sam's voice broke as he pulled her close and continued to scan the turbulent surface of the water.

"There!" Wes shouted.

A short distance away they saw a bald head break the surface. It was Jung. He started to swim toward them, only to be pulled back under. Kensi screamed Deeks name, and Sam grabbed her arm when she moved dangerously close to the edge. Seawater sloshed around her bare feet as she searched for him, finally seeing him struggling with Jung, their battle illuminated by a sudden slash of lightning. Deeks had Jung in a chokehold, dragging him under one more time. Wes jumped in, hitting the water feet first and began to swim toward their last location, pausing mid way to look for any sign of the two men. Sam saw them first and shouted to him, pointing some distance out and to the right of where they'd seen them last.

"It's Deeks. Can't see Jung," Sam said, sounding quietly relieved, and Kensi's eyes filled with sudden tears.

When she saw Deeks appear to struggle in the water, repeatedly sinking beneath the dark waves, she leaped out into the sea without hesitation, ignoring Sam's shout. She swam as hard and as fast as she could, unwilling to lose him now, not when she could see him this close. She struggled to keep him in sight, but the wind whipped the saltwater into her eyes making it difficult to see. Still she persisted, fighting to reach him. Wes got to the spot before her, but turned in a circle, unable to find him. He caught her eye, and then dove underwater and Kensi followed. The water was dark and murky and freezing. Visibility was limited and she was close to desperation until she finally saw him kicking toward the surface, pulling Jung's limp body with him. She and Wes reached him as he broke the surface. He looked exhausted, but when he saw her he smiled. Wes pounded him on the shoulder a couple of times and then took control of Jung and began hauling him back toward the yacht.

"Hey, Kens," he said wearily, closing his eyes as he coughed up water.

She got as close as she could, holding his face in her hands. She wiped wet hair out of his eyes and kissed him softly as they bobbed up and down in the frigid water.

"You scared me," she said against his lips.

"Kens? I can't feel my toes."

She nodded, and her worry returned as they quickly turned and began swimming back. She kept pace with him, and realized just how exhausted he really was as he swam slowly and deliberately, occasionally slipping beneath the waves. The cold was sapping her own strength, and Deeks had been out here much longer and fighting for his life. Worried that he was too tired to make it, she frantically waved to Sam, but after acknowledging her, he disappeared back inside.

"Come on, Deeks," she said. "We're close."

When he didn't reply, she looked back toward the yacht for help, and saw a black rubber dinghy being launched. Two members of the Fire Team scrambled on board, and quickly started the small outboard, bouncing over the choppy waves as they raced toward them.

"Hold on, baby. Help's on the way," she said as she worked to keep his head above water.

Before the boat even reached them, Racker leaped into the water and was beside Deeks in an instant.

"Got 'im, ma'am," he said, wrapping an arm around Deeks chest from behind and kicking toward the dinghy.

The SEAL named Dallas helped Racker haul Deeks out of the water, and then easily pulled her on board. They quickly spun the dinghy around and pushed the throttle full out. Kensi huddled next to Deeks as he shivered uncontrollably.

"Thanks, guys," he whispered, although she was the only one who could hear him.

A perfectly timed wave assisted Wes and the others in getting the dinghy back onto the lower deck. Deeks was helped out, and Sam immediately swathed him in a very expensive looking silk comforter he'd obviously gotten from one of the bedrooms. When Kensi looked over at him in surprise, he smiled and cocked his head.

"Nothing but the best for our rescue team," Sam said. "Come on Deeks. There's probably some pretty good brandy upstairs."

"Sounds damn good right now," he replied through chattering teeth. "How's Callen doing?"

"Ready to get off that ugly scow and back home," Sam said. "Wanted to come over with me. Man can't even stand up, but he was worried about you. Had to threaten him before he agreed to stay put."

"Is he gonna be okay?" Deeks asked. "Those cuts looked deep."

"Lost a lot of blood, so I'll feel better when we get him to a hospital," Sam said, eyeing the sopping wet bandage on his arm. "Looks like you two are gonna have matching scars. You in pain?"

"Too numb to tell," he replied softly, pausing to look at where Jung lay facedown on the deck, his hands tied behind his back. "He alive?"

"Waterlogged, but breathin'," Dallas said.

"Should have let the bastard drown."

"You did your job, Deeks," Sam said.

"And scored some points with the CIA," Wes added.

"Yeah, right. There's always that," he said. "Hey Kens? How's Braxton?"

"Semi-conscious. Kept mumbling Miyoko's name. Yours too," she said. "I think he was worried about you."

"Doubt that. Not sure he'll be happy or pissed that I brought the guy back alive," Deeks said as he followed Sam up the stairs to the main deck, the tail of the comforter dragging behind him.

Someone had turned on all the lights on the boat, so when they entered the main salon the stark remains of the earlier firefight were brightly illuminated. No one had moved the dead, leaving them in place for the investigation that would take place back in Coronado. Braxton still lay on the leather sofa, but he was now conscious and covered with a blanket, his head propped up on a blue pillow. He looked pale and Kensi knew he needed a hospital as soon as was possible.

"Anybody got an ETA on the Coast Guard rescue chopper?" She asked.

"I'll check with Ensign Cruz," Wes said. "Our patrol boat is ready to tie up alongside. I'll have someone bring over your go-bags. Meanwhile, Deeks needs a hot shower. Might be suffering a little hypothermia in spite of the wetsuit."

She walked over to Deeks as he talked quietly with Braxton, whose expression was stone cold. The man appeared to be listening, and wasn't looking at Deeks as he told him what had happened. He seemed angry.

"You know he won't pay for a damn thing he's done, don't you?" Braxton said coldly, finally looking up at Deeks with a sneer on his face. "They'll flip him, make him an asset or…"

"You don't know that," Deeks said.

"That's damn naïve even for a dumb bastard like you," he replied, his mouth in a rigid line. "You should have let him drown."

"Hey! Deeks could have died out there trying to get a guy you couldn't," Kensi said angrily. "And you'd be dead if we hadn't saved your ass."

"Then I guess we're even, sweetheart," he said, sounding so obnoxious Kensi wanted to hit him.

"Yeah, Agent Braxton. We are," Deeks said wearily. "Have a nice life."

As Deeks walked away, Braxton's face softened and Kensi saw something shift in his eyes. He briefly looked bereft, but the expression quickly changed back to the hard jawed CIA agent they had first met. He was an odd man, and Kensi thought he must lead a lonely existence, one without any friends to help ease the harsh reality he had to live with every day. She realized the man had probably felt a connection with Deeks. They had a similar sense of humor, but she wondered whether that had all been an act. He'd pushed Deeks away, and was probably feeling sorry he had, but then she knew literally nothing about the man, except what he had chosen to reveal during their time together. Whether what he'd shared was even true, she had no idea. He was just one of those strange, shadowy operatives you came in contact with when you worked in intelligence.

"Want to get naked with me?" Deeks asked when she followed him into the first bedroom they came to.

"I'll start the shower," she said, kissing him lightly before jerking back to look at him. "Your lips are ice cold, Deeks. They're actually blue."

"Yeah, no…still can't feel my toes," he said, giving her that hurt and vulnerable look that always made her insides melt. "Help me get this bandage off."

She made quick work of unraveling the sopping mess of bloody wet gauze around the cut on his arm, and quickly helped him shed his wetsuit, and then struggled out of her own. Tossing it aside, she heard him suck in his breath, and she turned to see his arm was red with blood. She ushered him into the sumptuous bathroom and turned the water on.

"Get in. I'm going to find a med kit," she said.

"Might want to put on a robe, Kens," Deeks said with a soft grin. "I don't think the guys out there need anymore excitement today."

She slapped his butt as he stepped into the shower, and then went to search the closet. When she was wrapped in an oversized bathrobe, she opened the door and saw both their go-bags on the floor outside and Sam leaning against the wall.

"He okay?" Sam asked.

"Are you?"

"Been better, but seeing Deeks' ugly mug when you breached Jung's little torture chamber gave me the warm fuzzies. Just don't tell him I said that," Sam said, smiling softly before becoming deadly serious. "You were both lifesavers, Kens. Jung thought I'd break if he tortured G…"

The anguish was plain on his face as he struggled to put the terror into words, and she walked over and gave him a hug. "It was so good to see you both alive. Deeks was scared to death he'd lost you."

"That's how I felt when we couldn't find him down on the lower deck," he replied. "I was trying to think how to tell Callen that his brother was gone."

She suddenly felt a chill, her fear returning as she remembered searching for any sign of him in that vast, churning sea. Sam must have sensed where her mind had gone, and reached over and squeezed her shoulder.

"You can start thinking about your wedding now," he said. "This op is over…well, almost. Still the debriefs to go through."

"And a little hospital time for you and Callen," she said.

"I'm fine, Kens. Callen took the brunt of it," he replied, but the cuts and bruises and the look on his face told her how much he'd suffered. "Now tell me how Deeks is."

"The cut on his arm is still bleeding," she told him. "Is there a med kit on board?"

"When you two are dressed, I'll take a look at it," he offered.

Wes Hallock's big body filled the doorway, knocking softly as he poked his head into the hallway. "Coast Guard chopper is ten minutes out."

"Copy that," they replied in unison.

"When you and Deeks are both up for it, Hetty needs to speak with you," Wes said. "I gave her the basics about what went down, but she has questions. She did inform me that a Coast Guard cutter out of San Diego is on its way. It's carrying a boatload of people from all the alphabet agencies you can name. Gonna be one hell of argument over who has jurisdiction on this one."

"I'll patch Deeks up as best I can and then head back over to help get Callen and Tig on board the rescue helo," Sam said. "G will want a complete rundown on what happened before he goes anywhere."

"Sounds like it's almost over," Kensi said quietly after Wes left.

"And looks like Deeks had a breakthrough about staying with NCIS," he replied. "Or was this just a one time deal?"

"No. He's coming back to be my full time partner," she said.

"And soon-to-be husband…"

"Now that has I nice ring to it," she said, smiling widely.

"Yeah, it does, Mrs. Deeks," Sam said softly.

"How do you know he isn't taking my last name?" She teased.

"I'm not crazy enough to touch that question," Sam laughed. "Whatever you end up calling yourself, I'm happy for both of you. You've waited long enough."

She nodded, suddenly feeling completely content, and smiled shyly at Sam before picking up their go-bags and going back into the bedroom. Her adrenaline was fading and she dropped the bags and sat down on the bed.

"Kens? You good?"

Deeks stood in the open door to the bathroom wrapping a towel around the wound on his arm, another hanging low around his hips. His body glistened with water, and she couldn't help the tears that blurred her eyes as they looked at one another. She went to him, needing to hold him, needing to dispel the last remnants of fear the day had brought.

"Hey, Sugarplum…we're okay," he whispered as she clung to him. "We got the guys back. So we're good…better than good. We're great. We're getting married…going on our honeymoon…changing our last name to Bleeks…you know…all the good stuff."

She couldn't help but pretend to be angry. "Deeks? I am not going to be called Kensi Bleeks."

"No? Come on. Really? It has a nice ring to it," he said, his eyes crinkling with his mocking smile.

"I'm too tired to think about it right now," she replied as she hugged him close. "I just want a shower, some warm, comfortable clothes…and you."

"I think that can be arranged…minus the clothes, of course," he replied, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

"Sounds like things are back to normal in that tiny mind of yours."

"Seeing you au naturel, as they say in France, is always in my mind somewhere," he said softly.

"The only surprise there is that you said it in French," she replied as she extricated herself from his arms. "Now, mon amour, Sam brought our go-bags, and is waiting to bandage your arm."

She dropped the robe and took a step toward the shower, smiling when he reached out and fondled her breast, his face softening into want.

"I don't think we have time for that," she whispered as he stepped closer, his arm encircling her waist as he nuzzled beneath her ear. "Besides…you're bleeding."

"Later then," he said and kissed her tenderly on the lips. "Promise?"

"Promise."

The sound of a helicopter flying in low overhead ended their interlude, and Deeks sighed, but broke out in a cocky grin as he dropped the towel from around his hips and strolled out into the bedroom.

She laughed at his playfulness, feeling lighthearted as she stepped under the hot water of the shower, her mind full of all the things she needed to do before their wedding on New Year's Day.

…

…

 _Just a note to let you know I won't be posting another chapter until after Christmas. However, I will be writing a Christmas story for wikiDeeks._

 _Wishing you all bountiful joy and comforting peace this holiday season._

…


	38. Chapter 38

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 38_

…

The world around him was a depressing grey, the clouds low, and the ocean swells drawn with streaks of pale grey foam. He was thankful the rain had stopped as he stood on deck watching Braxton being secured in a rescue basket. He could see Sam watching from the open door of the hovering Coast Guard helicopter. Callen and Tig were already on board, which lessened his concern, knowing there were medics on board to see to their wounds. He saw Racker turn away from Braxton and yell something in his direction, but the heavy beat of the rotor blades drowned out the words. His exaggerated gesture beckoned him forward, and he wondered if something was wrong as he hurried over.

"Won't let me signal for evac till he talks to you," Racker shouted in his face.

Wind from the rotors' backwash whipped across the CIA agent's body, tearing at the blanket strapped down over him. He was pale, his eyes barely open, but he stretched out his right hand and Deeks took it. He bent over him, his ear close to his lips, trying to hear what he was saying.

"…real name's Walters…Robert," Braxton said. "Call me Bobby next time you see me."

"And blow your cover? No way, you crazy sonofabitch," Deeks said, grinning down at the man, and getting one in return.

"Don't be a dumb bastard and stay in too long," Braxton warned, his eyes brightening with intensity. "Go have a real life."

Deeks tightened his grip on the man's hand, and started to reply, but Racker tapped him urgently on the shoulder and pointed thumbs up. Braxton released him, and they held each other's gaze until the basket rose, turning in the wind as he was lifted up toward the waiting chopper. He felt an odd sensation as he watched him pulled inside, wondering if he would ever see him again. He couldn't say how he felt about the man, but they had fought a common enemy and had saved each other, so there would always be a connection.

The orange rescue helo rose and then banked and flew back toward the coast, and his heart lifted with relief. He hadn't had a chance to speak with Callen before he left, but knowing he would be getting the medical care he needed tempered his regret. He was anxious to get off this boat and to the hospital, wanting to make sure he and Sam were truly all right and had family close by. He was extremely tired himself, and Callen and Sam had suffered so much more, so he could only imagine how exhausted they must be.

"Here comes the relief crew," Racker said, bumping his arm and then pointing at the large Coast Guard cutter making its way toward them through the furious sea. "Looks like your ride home is on board too."

He shrugged the collar of his jacket closer around his neck, shivering from the windy gusts that made him shove his fists deeper into its pockets. He glanced up at the various decks of the yacht hoping to spot Kensi, but when he didn't see her, his attention returned to the incoming cutter. He was surprised by its size. It dwarfed Jung's yacht, which was impressive, and comforting in a way. He suddenly felt proud. They had not only saved Callen and Sam, but had foiled a foreign operative and a government intent on causing their country harm. He had never been particularly patriotic, but today, as he watched the stark white ship approach, the flag whipping tautly in the wind, his heart swelled just a little. His main intent had always been taking down bad guys. Today they had taken down a big one and probably embarrassed a rogue nation as well. Now, he was ready to go home and start that real life Braxton had encouraged.

During his conversation with Hetty, she had alerted him that another helicopter would be coming for them. The approaching cutter had a helipad and their ride home waited there for them. No basket lift for him or for Kensi, and he smiled. Hetty's questions had been brief, and mainly concerned the health of Callen and Sam, as well as his own and Kensi's. She had also informed him she'd let his family know he was safe and would be home soon. Warning him that he might be questioned by a couple of higher ups in the NSA and the DOJ who were on board the incoming ship, she gave him a little background on those she knew. He wasn't looking forward to the debrief, but he could handle it, and immediately turned and headed back inside to get warm and grab a bite to eat if he could. He was pretty sure Kensi had managed to find something to hold them over until they could find a hot meal. He had a feeling he would need the strength, having not eaten anything except a donut over the last twenty-four hours.

The dead were starting to smell, so he covered his nose and trotted upstairs to the upper deck and the galley. Kensi and what remained of Wes' team stood at the windows watching the approaching ship.

"Brought in the big boy for this," Dallas said. "That's one of the new NSCs…a National Security Cutter."

"Probably hauling a pretty big compliment of investigators and ME's," Ponzi said.

"Not to mention a gaggle of intelligence officers," Racker added with a wiseass grin.

"Mission ain't over, ladies," Wes said as he entered the room. "Better go give those boys the lay of the land. Then we'll see which honcho gets to debrief us."

"Thought our debrief would be back at Coronado?" Kensi said.

"Might be for you two, if Hetty has anything to say about it," Wes said. "She wants you to have that arm taken care of sooner than later, Deeks."

"Let's hope she still has a favor or two to call in," Deeks said and turned to search for something to eat. "Kens? Any food around?"

"Found some leftover bulgogi and noodles," she replied. "Just not sure who touched it last."

"Eewww. Never mind," Deeks said with a grimace. "Any cookies? Pretzels? An apple maybe?"

"Nope! Nothing that looked familiar or that I wanted to eat."

"Any donuts left on the patrol boat?" Deeks turned hopefully toward Wes and the SEALs.

"You obviously ain't been on night patrol with a crew of sailor boys," Ponzi said. "They're like a pack of wolves around food, 'specially anything sweet."

"No, can't say I have, but I'm marrying a woman who could eat them all under the table," Deeks cracked.

The soft punch on the arm from Kensi, made them all smile, even though she tried her best to look innocent. Dallas handed him a cup of coffee and he stood with the rest of them as they watched the Coast Guard cutter come about and offload a gangplank between it and the yacht. The churning water between them made everyone's crossing treacherous, but eventually a line of people who were there to take over made it safely on board.

Deeks and Kensi met the first arrivals in the main salon, greeting them and watching their eyes water when the smell of death hit them. A heavyset man with steel grey hair walked toward the bodies and stood silently looking over the scene as he pulled off a pair of fine leather gloves. When he turned, he looked directly at Deeks.

"Agent Deeks," he said with a tart nod. "Take me to Jung Ji-hwan."

"And you are?" He asked.

"Knox. CIA. I'm Braxton's handler."

"Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you Harry?" A thin man with a brushy mustache said as he stepped between them. "The NSA has jurisdiction on this."

"Mason, that won't fly and you know it," Knox said coldly. "We've been onto this guy for over a year."

"Then why was he still running around stealing sensitive intel?" Mason snapped.

As the two began to argue, a black woman with short, naturally styled hair stepped up and offered her hand. "Nina Stiles, Homeland Security. And this is Nelson Kaplan, DOJ. He's the head of the FBI Counterintelligence Division."

The man shook his hand and then Kensi's when he introduced her. "We've met. Joe Atwood's commendation ceremony. One of the more interesting ones I've been to."

"Joe does like to keep things interesting," Deeks replied.

"Packed a pretty solid punch that day. Sorry to lose him. He was a good agent," Kaplan said earnestly.

"Should we break up those two?" Nina Stiles asked. "Or just let them blow themselves out?"

"Let the games begin," Kaplan responded. "Agents? After you."

"Gentlemen?" Stiles said sharply as they approached the two men. "Shall we let these agents walk us through the operation before we interrogate Jung?"

"Henrietta Lange made me promise to get them on a chopper home as soon as possible," Kaplan said, his voice changing into a deeper, more commanding tone. "She asked me to remind all of us just whose agents brought down Jung Ji-hwan."

"Well they wouldn't have done it without my man," Knox replied. "And he was wounded doing it."

"So were three members of our team," Kensi snapped. "And Deeks."

"You're injured, Agent Deeks?" Nina Stiles asked with concern.

"Just a cut on the arm, ma'am," he replied self-consciously. "I'm fine. Braxton and our two agents were tortured, and a member of our tactical team took a couple of bullets."

"How are they doing?" Nelson Kaplan asked.

"Tig lost a lot of blood, and Braxton is in bad shape, Callen too," Deeks reported. "So that medevac chopper looked pretty damn good when it showed up."

"Then they're taken care of," Knox said quickly. "Now, how about giving us a rundown of what happened here."

The thought entered Deeks' mind that this might be the guy who had ordered Braxton to stand down when he had a shot at Jung in Tokyo. Not hard to see why Braxton hated the guy, he was obnoxious. He listened while Kensi began detailing the mission. He was beginning to feel his strength ebbing as various questions were asked and answered. He added a couple of details, but his mind began to wander after a while and he longed to sit down. He realized he was looking at the floor and lifted his eyes to find them all staring at him.

"Deeks? Are you okay?" Kensi asked.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to drift off like that," he replied. "Been a long day."

"Thought Hetty would send somebody who'd be up for the rigors of a mission as important as this one," Knox said.

Deeks stopped a very angry looking Kensi before she had a chance to say something that might get her in trouble. Hetty had warned him about Knox, and having absorbed the man's rebuke, he smiled.

"The ocean was pretty damn cold, but I managed to pull Jung out alive," he replied. "Hetty mentioned you worked a similar mission together back in the day. Sorry that one didn't turn out the way you'd hoped."

"That information is classified," Knox growled. "She had no right…"

"Come on Harry, that one makes the rounds at parties every year around this time," Kaplan laughed. "It could have happened to anybody."

"Was funny though," Mason said with a grin.

"Shut up, Frank," Knox snapped.

"I think we have enough information to interrogate our foreign operative, gentlemen," Nina Stiles said kindly. "Should we do our jobs and let these two go home and get some rest?"

"Your helo's waiting, agents," Kaplan added. "But keep yourselves available. We might need to clarify some things. You'll be debriefed more fully after we assess what we find here."

"Copy that," Kensi nodded, looking relieved.

"Knox? Braxton is a tough sonofabitch," Deeks said. "Jung tortured him, but he didn't break. Protected the stolen intel. Hell…he swallowed it. He's a good man…a little weird, but one hell of an operative."

"I know that, Agent Deeks," Knox acknowledged gruffly. "And thank you."

"We'll take our leave now, if that's okay. Deeks needs to get his wound treated," Kensi said, possessively taking hold of his arm.

The four intelligence officers nodded their assent and Kensi gently pulled Deeks away and began leading him out of the cabin. She wouldn't even let him say a proper goodbye to the team. All he could do was wave. Kensi pushed him ahead of her across the shifting gangplank where Wes was waiting with a Coast Guard officer.

"Kensi. Deeks. Meet Chief Medical Officer Lopez," Wes said. "He's going to stitch you up, kid."

"No, really, I'm fine. I want to get back to Coronado to see how Callen is doing," Deeks protested.

"Deeks, when I was detailing the mission back there, you were out of it," Kensi said as they led him inside out of the wind. "You were so pale I thought you were going to pass out."

"How long has your wound gone untreated, Agent Deeks?" The doctor asked as he walked him down a passageway.

"Not sure really," he replied.

"Over three hours, sir," Kensi said as they were led into sickbay.

"Sam cleaned and bandaged it," Deeks said quietly. "It's not bleeding anymore."

"Mind if I check it anyway?" The doctor asked kindly.

"Course not, sir."

"Good. Understand you spent some time in the water wrestling with a North Korean. Let's see if he did any damage, okay?" Lopez said as motioned him toward an exam table. "Now, please remove your jacket and shirt."

"Can't I just roll up my sleeve?"

"Don't argue with the doctor, Deeks," Kensi said, and he realized she was worried, so he did what was asked.

"Damn, kid. That bastard packed a serious punch," Wes remarked.

Deeks hissed as the doctor felt around the bruises on his ribs, closing his eyes as he dealt with the pain.

"Might have a cracked rib on your left side here," Lopez said.

"He seemed to like kicking people," Deeks said. "Especially me."

The doctor took his temperature and blood pressure and listened to his lungs, asking if he'd taken in much water. When he told him no, the man looked skeptical as he picked up his right arm.

"Squeeze my hand."

Deeks winced as a ripple of pain shot up his arm. "Not much of a grip is it?"

"Not a surprise. I'll give you something for the pain," the doctor said.

Deeks kept his eyes on Kensi as the man began unwrapping the bloodstained bandage on his arm. It was an ugly wound, a diagonal slice across his forearm, and he saw her eyes widened when it was fully exposed. He hadn't looked at it when Sam was treating him on the yacht, and now he suddenly felt the pain.

"It's long and deep, but doesn't appear to have damaged the tendon, just the muscle," Lopez observed. "How do you feel about needles, Agent Deeks?"

He saw Kensi smile, and so did the doctor.

"I had a sailor once who passed out whenever he saw one," Lopez said with a grin. "Vaccination time with him was an adventure. His buddies had to drag him into sickbay every time he was due for a booster shot. Finally, I just showed him a huge needle and after he passed out, we did them all at once."

"Remind me not to mess with you, Doc," Deeks said, but laughed, knowing how embarrassing it would be to pass out in front of everyone.

"I can put you under if you like," Doctor Lopez said. "But you do need stitches. A lot of them."

"No one will think less of you, Deeks," Wes said.

"Seriously? You know if Callen and Sam find out I'll never hear the end of it," Deeks whined.

"They'll tease you if you pass out too," Wes shot back.

"Either way we promise not to tell, baby," Kensi said with a soft smile that he didn't trust in the least.

"How about I just give you a sedative," Doctor Lopez said. "You can get a little rest and when you wake up you can board that chopper outside and go home."

Kensi reached out and gripped his knee, giving him encouragement and he nodded to the doctor. He was suddenly very tired, and as the doctor led him over to a bed, he was overcome with emotion. He hadn't had time to deal with seeing Callen and Sam tied to chairs and bleeding from being tortured. Now he felt raw anger, but also immense relief that they were alive and on their way home. His mind raced back to the moment he saw Callen through the smoke, sitting so still, his clothes streaked with blood. In that instant he thought they'd been too late, that he had lost his brother. That empty feeling returned, and he longed to be by his side, to remind himself that their lives would go on, and that they would share the happiest day of his life when he married Kensi. This mission had mirrored the one to find Joe and he smiled. He and Kensi had fought to keep their family safe and he was proud of that, proud to have her by his side this time to bring his brothers home.

"Kens?"

"Yeah, baby? I'm here."

"Can you call Joe? Tell him where Callen and Sam are?" He asked. "They need to be with family after what they went through."

"Absolutely. Now sleep, Deeks," she said softly as he felt the prick of a needle.

He finally felt warm as the sedative coursed through his veins. The ocean had been so cold and so very dark. He had fought hard to live, to do the right thing and bring Jung in alive, but there had been that one moment when he could have let him die. He'd watched him sink, unconscious, toward the bitterly cold depths of that black sea. The powerful pull of vengeance gripped his mind as he remembered all the violent acts the man had committed. Braxton had wanted him to let the man die. In that one moment he had considered it. Jung had tortured a woman to death. A woman Braxton loved. He understood more than the CIA agent would ever know. It had rained that day long ago when he'd thought he'd lost Kensi and Callen and Sam forever. He had held Kensi's bloody body in his arms and screamed. He knew what it felt like to want vengeance, but somehow good judgment had won. All of those feelings roared back as Jung Ji-hwan sank further and further into the darkness beneath him. His lungs burned and the decision had to be made. Life or death? Should his life with Kensi begin with a death he could have prevented? That wasn't what he wanted to think about on his wedding day. On that day he wanted only sunshine and love, not the cloud of death. So his hesitation ended, and he dove down and pulled the man up from the depths, and when he broke the surface Kensi was there. That's what he wanted to remember about this day.

…

…


	39. Chapter 39

**Breakthrough**

 _Chapter 39_

…

It felt good to know where everyone was. No one was missing. No one was in danger. But, no one was a hundred percent either. He only had to remember Callen hobbling around Disneyland with Sam hovering over him like the mother hen he turned into whenever one of them was hurting, or make a fist and flex his arm to remind himself of what they had been dealing with a few short days ago. Callen had spent two full days in the hospital after being transfer up from Coronado. He had checked himself out late on Friday, and insisted he would be fine for the bachelor party on Saturday. None of them wanted to be in Disneyland on New Year's Eve.

Callen and Sam had mostly been observers during the bachelor party, but they had come dressed as pirates as originally planned. They'd resisted at first, making valid excuses for one another, but the disappointment on Eric's face finally convinced them to give in. They had laughed a lot while selecting their outfits and getting dressed. It took their minds off their injuries and the harsh memories of the torture they'd endured. Eric had called in a couple of friends he knew from the Renaissance Fairs he attended, and between them there had been plenty of clothes to dress their small party of revelers. One friend was a makeup artist who was able to mask their faces enough to maintain their anonymity if they were to appear on any social media sites. Even George got into it, taking on the roll of a crusty old captain with a black, tricornered hat and an eye patch. Jim Littleshield was made up to look like a Maori tribesman with fake tattoos of dark swirls on his cheeks. He loved them, even joking about making them permanent, which Soldier enthusiastically supported.

Raffy had laughed the loudest and had fun preening in front of Eric's full length mirror in the bright red Royal Marines greatcoat he'd found in one of the wardrobe cabinets. Since he was a cop, he insisted on becoming the nemesis of their little band of pirates, and had periodically made a great show of capturing one or more of them as they made their way through Disneyland. All the kids booed him when he did, but he took it in stride. He was quite a hit with all the older tourists though, especially the ladies, posing for selfies with anyone who asked. Deeks had never seen him laugh so much.

Elan and Soldier decided that they would both go as Jack Sparrow and looked like twins when they stood side by side. They made a handsome pair, and when they'd approached the actual Pirates of the Caribbean ride, Soldier had suddenly been surrounded by a group of teenage Japanese tourists whose high pitch squeals had unnerved the usually self-possessed boy. Pete Archuleta had come to his rescue, seeing the panic in his eyes. He'd waded through the gaggle of girls and ushered him back to Elan and the rest of them who hurried him inside the Blue Bayou Restaurant. The place had brought back unwanted memories for Joe and Callen, and the smell of cornbread had made Deeks nauseous, so he'd quickly followed them outside. The others joined them, and when George had commented on how tired Callen looked, Eric quickly found them a semi-quiet place for them to have dinner together. The night ended early, which was fine with Deeks. It had been a fun evening, and no one had played any embarrassing pranks on him, but Sam warned him not to let his guard down just yet. When he got home, Kensi capped off the whole evening, meeting him at the door in her own pirate's garb, and stripping him of his after pulling him down on the couch by his sash. After their sexy romp, they decided to ask Eric if they could keep the outfits.

As he stood in the dawn light, he felt lighter, calmly watching the ocean send benign waves one after another onto the beach where he would be married later in the day. They had survived so much and he had needed to come here, to reconcile it all in his mind. He and Kensi had both gone through a full debrief by Nina Stiles of Homeland and Nelson Kaplan of the FBI the day after getting home. It was one of the easier ones he'd been through, the success of the operation making both of them quite grateful, at least as grateful as career intelligence officers allow themselves to be. Braxton's handler, Harry Knox, was a different story. Hetty had insisted on sitting in on that one, and she wasn't adverse to reining him in if she thought his questions had gone too far, or that his assertions were demeaning and out of line. Deeks had asked about Braxton, but Knox told him the information was classified. It was only after he'd left that Hetty told him Braxton had disappeared, and that Knox had no idea where he was. It made Deeks smile.

"You're not having second thoughts are you?" Callen called out as he limped up behind him.

Deeks hadn't heard him coming, and turned to watch his slow approach. "I'm not that crazy, brother."

"You okay?" Callen asked, stopping beside him and staring out at the ocean.

Deeks said nothing, just turned to resume his former position. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"I'm doing better, but you've been kind of quiet…didn't say much whenever you came to the hospital," he replied. "And we didn't have many chances to talk during your very weird bachelor party."

"Thought you had fun."

"Doesn't mean it wasn't a strange experience. Eric shot video of the whole thing, in case you care to see the evidence," Callen laughed. "Now tell me what's bothering you. I know there's something going on under that mess of shaggy hair, and you need to deal with it."

"I shouldn't have taken that sabbatical," Deeks said softly. "If Kensi and I had been backing you up, you never would have been taken."

"Maybe, maybe not," Callen responded thoughtfully. "But, I'm glad you and Kensi weren't there, Deeks. We were seriously outnumbered and outgunned. It was a week before your wedding…"

"What does that have to do with it?" Deeks asked, anger pricking at him.

"I might have done something stupid to protect you, and got myself killed," he replied with a smirk.

"Seriously?" Deeks said.

"Come on, admit it…you would have missed me at the wedding," Callen said with a disarming laugh. "I might not have been your first choice for Best Man, but I had to have been your second. Right?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Deeks replied, trying to look serious, but unable to hold back a smile.

"You know you have a tell when you lie, right?" Callen said, grinning cockily.

"Only when I lie to you, brother," he replied.

"Deeks…I don't blame you for what happened," Callen said, all joking gone. "And I don't want you to blame yourself either. Not today. Let it go, kid."

"What was it like when you came here for my memorial service?" Deeks asked.

Callen seemed stunned by the question, and looked back out to sea, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of the light windbreaker he was wearing. He didn't speak right away, and Deeks waited, watching him struggle to come up with the right words. None of them had ever gone into great detail about that day, but he knew it had affected each of them deeply and still did, even after all this time.

"You had a lot of friends here that day," Callen began. "Probably more than you even knew you had. And, I met Elan for the first time. He was impressive."

"Still is," Deeks said.

"No argument there," Callen said, relaxing a bit. "I was with him when he spotted the photographer Granger sent to take photos. If he hadn't done that, and if Elan hadn't spotted a reflection off of the guy's lens, we never would have believed you were still alive and gone looking for you."

"So it's a lucky place then," Deeks said softly.

"Never thought of it that way," Callen said, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. "Guess you're right. You are lucky. Then and now. You're marrying Kensi."

"And I'm glad you'll be beside me when I do. Sam too," Deeks said, pulling Callen in for a gentle hug.

"Come on Mr. Bleeks. I'll buy you breakfast."

…

The Christmas storm had passed, cleansing the air and leaving a brilliant blue winter sky and a touch of warmth. Kensi didn't have to get dressed for a couple of hours yet, and while the guys had gone off to be pirates, the girls had gotten mani-pedis, so that was one thing off her checklist. She was feeling antsy and decided to go down to the beach to see how the set up was going. The plans had been in place for a while, and Nell had given her an update yesterday, but she wanted to see it, to know it was really happening.

Deeks had left before dawn, but had propped a sweet note on his pillow saying he would see her later at some beach event he'd heard about. It had made her laugh. He always knew how to do that. They'd shared a glass of champagne at midnight, and he'd made slow love to her, ending it by teasing her with the name he'd coined for them. She'd tried to act mad about it, but she felt so content, she couldn't sustain anything other than a smile. They'd held each other, and falling asleep in his arms symbolized the future for her. It was such a comfort to feel his body next to hers, his arms embracing her, leaving her contented, and giving her a sense of protection. She had always been able to take care of herself, but now, with him, she had grown used to that feeling because he had become a part of her.

When she pulled into the parking lot at the beach, she saw a large white truck, and a woman directing the men unloading it. Then she saw Nell, her tablet in hand striding out across the sand to where a large white tent was being erected next to the bluff, and it gave her chills.

"This is really happening. I'm getting married," she said softly to herself.

She walked slowly down to the beach, taking in the smell of the sea and the rolling waves crashing crisply onto the wet sand. It looked so different from the day she'd come to mourn and to say goodbye to the man she loved, but had lost. That day had been moody and grey, the ocean flat as if it had no energy. Today the beach felt vibrant, and the air was fresh from the soft breeze blowing in off the sea. She couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day to marry the man she had mourned so long ago, the one she had helped to rescue and bring home, the one person she loved above all others and who loved her deeply in return.

"You look happy," Nell said, suddenly standing beside her.

"It's a perfect day," she replied, her eyes blurring with tears.

Nell gave her a hug, her own eyes filling briefly. "Come to check up on us did you?"

"Not really. Just wanted to see it," she replied. "To make sure it wasn't some fantasy I dreamed."

"Oh, it's real all right," Nell said with a laugh. "It's been a whirlwind around here, thanks to Juliana and the rest of the staff at L'ezu. You have to see the wedding canopy. She found a driftwood artist to design and build it."

Nell led the way toward the water, passing the men setting up rows of white chairs. She stopped when she saw a young man with dreadlocks manhandling a long, pale piece of driftwood into a hole dug in the sand. His helpers quickly filled in the sand around it as a teenager dug another hole. Long twisted pieces of the gnarled wood were scattered across the sand, while shorter, gently curving ones had been stuck in the sand, ready to be assembled.

Nell looked for her approval and then quickly said, "When it's covered with all the white netting, it's going to be a fantasy come true."

"Driftwood? Deeks will love it," she gushed.

"The flowers won't be put in place until a half hour before the wedding," Nell continued. "Juliana wanted to wait until later. She was afraid someone might make off with them. But, I told her I had a tactical squad assigned to guard the site. I think that surprised her, and maybe scared her just a little."

Kensi laughed and hugged her. "Thank you for everything, Nell. I couldn't have done this without you."

"You were a little busy," Nell said. "Now you need to get over to Hetty's beach house. Diane is already there, and the hair dresser will arrive in twenty minutes."

"You really are starting to sound like Hetty," Kensi laughed.

"She was here earlier with Wes Hallock," Nell said. "She put him in charge of security."

"They aren't going to be in tactical gear are they?" Kensi asked.

"No they will not be. She's having them dress in matching blue Hawaiian shirts and white pants," Nell assured her. "They'll still be tough looking, and with the sunglasses they'll be wearing, people will think twice about invading the festivities. And I wouldn't be surprised if they were packing a hidden weapon or two."

"Oh, my God. This is crazy," Kensi laughed.

"You don't know the half of it," Nell said. "Wait till you see Eric's surprise. Don't ask. It's top secret, plus he'll kill me if I tell. Now go, girl. This is taken care of."

"Nell…you're the best."

Her heart was racing wildly with excitement as she drove down the Pacific Coast Highway to Hetty's beach house. She had been there before with Deeks. It wasn't very big, more of a cottage, but it was charming, and looked out over the ocean. You only had to walk through the tiny walled garden behind it to reach the beach. It was where they would spend their first night as husband and wife.

She called out to Di as she entered, making her way past the kitchen to the living room, its large windows looking out over the water. She stopped when she saw her wedding gown draped across the small sofa. She'd forgotten how beautiful it was, and she couldn't stop her sudden tears.

"It is so lovely, Kensi," Isabel Rafferty said as she came in from the deck with Diane.

"It's perfect," Di said. "Now…how about a glass of champagne to get this party started?"

"Just a small one. I don't want to be drunk at my own wedding," Kensi replied, wiping at her tears as she laughed.

They were on the deck sharing stories about the men in their lives when Hetty called out to them, leading two other women into the house, and followed by a third.

"Lily? Oh my God. I'm so glad you could come," Kensi said, rushing to embrace her. "When did you get in? Have you seen Elan?"

"Slow down, mon bon ami. I am a romantic in disguise. I could not miss your wedding," Lily said before kissing her on both cheeks. "But, today is about you. Now let me see this dress that has so enraptured Hetty."

Kensi turned once again to her wedding gown, sitting down beside it and gently fingering the appliqué flowers that were scattered across the sheer fabric.

"Oh, Kensi. C'est magnifique," Lily said softly, her voice touched by a hint of sadness.

Kensi stood to embrace her, remembering what Deeks had told her about her breakup with Elan. Lily was a tough woman. Although she was a French Intelligence operative, she was also a woman in love with a man who was anchored to this country as much as she was inextricably bound to hers. It made Kensi realize just how lucky she was. Hetty seemed to understand the moment and stepped in.

"Kensi…this is Charlotte Gianino. She's done hair in Hollywood for over two decade," Hetty said. "And this is Leta Phan. She's a fixture in town as well. She'll be doing your makeup."

"Seriously?"

"You sounded just like your future husband, dear," Hetty said, patting her on the arm. "Now, who's pouring the champagne?"

"I brought a special bottle of Veuve Clicquot," Lily said, handing the bottle to Kensi. "It is a gift from Mimi and Luc. For tonight…when you two are alone together. Mimi wanted to come, but Luc is no longer able to fly."

"They let you bring a bottle of champagne on board a flight?" Diane asked. "TSA confiscated a jar of jam from me once."

"Air France was very understanding, of course," Lily said with a proud smile. "Especially when I showed my credentials."

"No one wants to tangle with French Intelligence," Hetty said.

The rest of the hour was spent in laughter, both Di and Isabel taking to Lily, relishing in the stories she told on Kensi and Deeks. Kensi didn't mind as she stared in a mirror and watched herself transformed. Charlotte left her hair long, letting it cascade around her shoulders, but pulling the sides up, leaving soft tendrils that curled beside her cheeks. She attached a spray of gardenias and stephanotis at the top where the veil would attach, the smell of the flowers sweet and intoxicating. When she was done, everyone clapped.

"You look stunning," Isabel said. "Marty is a very lucky man."

"He knows it too," Diane added.

Leta took over, her makeup style simple and not overly done, painting her lips with a color called Energy Peach. The name and the soft color were perfect for her. She was a little doubtful about the eye makeup at first. It was certainly more than she usually wore, even on undercover assignments, but she loved the eye shadow. It was pale blue and matched the underskirt of her wedding dress.

Her friends surrounded her when she stepped into her wedding gown, and it took great effort not to let any tears fall and spoil her make up. When Charlotte attached the veil she actually held her breath. A myriad of tiny silk flowers cascaded down the frothy material, a touch of pale blue at each center. For a moment, everyone remained silent. Then it was if they all let their breath out at the same time, everyone talking at once, until Diane stepped forward and took her hand.

"Oh my God, Kensi. You look amazing," Di whispered.

Kensi had no words, she simply stared at herself in the full-length mirror, longing to see the look on Deeks' face when he saw her.

…

Deeks mouth dropped open when a white limo came up the driveway of the house Hetty had loaned to the family. Callen slapped him on the back as he got in, telling him this was typical of Hetty because she never did anything halfway. Soldier followed him into the car, smiling shyly, and duly impressed just as he'd been when his tuxedo was delivered earlier. Elan just shook his head in disbelief, and George simply put his arm around Deeks as he guided him to the open limo door.

"This is your day to be spoiled, son. Just enjoy it," he said, and climbed inside.

"Copy that," he replied, fussing with his bow tie again.

Joe slapped his hand away, and simply took the thing off, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and patted him on the chest. "This is more you, brother. It's a beach wedding, remember?"

"Yeah, no…" he murmured, please with the change. "Hey…Where's Uncle Jim? We can't get married without him."

"He left before you got here," Elan said. "Didn't want you to see him before the ceremony."

"Why?"

"You'll see, Cuz," Elan replied with a grin.

"Come on Marty, or you'll be late to your own wedding," Joe said as he and Elan pushed him into the limo, laughing as they tumbled in after him.

Deeks' mind was spinning as they drove down toward Malibu. He was surprised at how nervous he was, and he silently wished the driver would speed up, so he could finally see Kensi. It was a day he had looked forward to for some time, and he smiled softly to himself. As they drove along the coast highway, he slowly began to relax. A sense of calm settled over him as they pulled off into the parking lot above the beach where he could see Sam waiting. He was the first one out and was immediately pulled into a breathtaking hug by the big man. When he managed to break free he looked out at the beach and saw four white poles stuck in the sand sporting multiple pale blue ribbons fluttering in the soft wind. Two tall white wicker vases flanked the entrance, each one filled with overflowing bouquets of huge, pale blue hydrangeas. Friends and colleagues were already seated, and he was pleased to see Lieutenant Bates and his wife. The entire Rafferty family waved at him in unison, and he was suddenly struck by how much it meant to have that wild bunch here. Pete Archuleta stood and raised his hand in salute, while a smiling Celina surprised him by wiping at her eyes with a tissue. Why would she be crying? Why was he?

"Aren't you happy, Uncle Marty?" Soldier asked, looking confused by the tears in his eyes.

"More than I've ever been, kid," he replied as Nell approached.

"Pull yourself together Agent Deeks," she said firmly with a smile. "Or you'll have all of us crying."

"I don't cry," Callen said.

"Arapaho's don't either," Elan said.

"Okay, all you tough guys, follow me," she said as she turned and led them around the chairs and down toward the beach.

When they reached a large white tent, a woman came out and began pinning small sprays of white flowers with a touch of sky blue blossoms on each of their lapels.

"What kind of flowers are these?" Soldier asked.

The kind woman looked surprised at his interest, but was happy to explain. "The white ones are stephanotis, and the small blue blossoms come from a hydrangea. We used blue hydrangeas with calla lilies around the base of the driftwood wedding canopy…see?"

She pointed out toward the beach and Deeks turned and noticed the driftwood sculpture for the first time. The worn wood looked as if it had always been there, and it reminded him of his college days, when he and his buddies would make bonfires out of driftwood as often as they could, staying up too late and drinking too much beer. This structure however, was elegant, the pieces twining around each other. Pale blue ribbons had been used to tie a white gauzy looking material over the top, the long ends of both streaming from each corner.

"Awesome," he whispered.

"Time to take your places, gentlemen," the lady said.

"Come on, son," George said. "Don't keep the bride waiting."

Thinking of Kensi as a bride touched something deep inside and he found he couldn't stop smiling. It was if he was floating, finally stopping beside the overarching driftwood structure. George stood close beside him, and the rest of his family lined up behind him. Deeks thought his heart would beat out of his chest as he waited for her to appear, but the first person to catch his attention was Jim Littleshield. Everyone heard the chanting and everyone strained to see where it was coming from.

"Looks like the old war horse is pulling out all his bells and whistles," George whispered.

Littleshield walked toward them from the sea in full regalia. His buckskins were white and heavily fringed and meticulously beaded, and his braids were wrapped in pale blue cloth. Three eagle feathers fanned out behind his head and he carried a fan of feathers and buckskin in one hand, the small attached bells jingling softly as he walked. He waved a smoking bundle of sage back and forth above his head and chanted softly as he came to stand under the canopy. When his chanting stopped, Soldier came forward to take the sage. Deeks was stunned. His love for the ranch and the beach had come together at this singular moment in time, and his eyes filled with tears. All of the guests suddenly began clapping, just as thrilled as he was by the unusual beginning.

"She is here," Jim Littleshield said softly and pointed down the sandy aisle.

When he turned to look his heart raced at the sight of her, awestruck by how truly beautiful she was. Diane and Nell stood on either side of her wearing pale blue gowns, the tops all lace and the multi-layered skirts catching the soft breeze. They each held a simple bouquet of calla lilies tied with pale blue ribbons. Smiling widely, they walked up the aisle of sand, taking their places after reaching out to touch Deeks' hand. Kensi remained where she was, staring back at him. She clutched a bouquet of hydrangeas and tiny calla lilies, but his eyes didn't remain on it long, as he found her gaze once again. The side of the large tent was suddenly pulled back to reveal a small string quartet fronted by a man and a woman. When they began to sing "All I Ask of You", from Phantom of the Opera, Deeks struggled to contain his emotions. Kensi seemed to be having the same problem, as were some of his friends. Finally toward the end of the song, Hetty came around from behind her and took her hand and they started forward, Kensi's veil billowing out around her like a cloud. When she reached him, she turned to Hetty and whispered something and Deeks swore he saw tears in the tough little woman's eyes.

Kensi handed off her bouquet and reached out to clasp his hands in hers.

"Hey, Sugarplum," he said softly, her smile the only reply he needed.

Littleshield began a soft chant in Arapaho and Soldier came up behind him and handed him the sage bundle. The smell was pungent as he held it high above his head and then down between them, crossing from north to south and east and west. He moved the smoke around them with the feather fan, and then handed the sage and fan to Soldier.

"This is the blessing of the four directions," Littleshield began in his gentle lilt. "We ask the Spirits to bless this marriage and the two fine people who will walk the same path together. We ask the Spirit of the North to bless them with the strength to bear what is cold and harsh in life. We ask the Spirit of the South to bless them with a gentleness of spirit and the ability to lighten the darkest of times. We ask the Spirit of the East to bless them when the sun rises each day, and help them speak the truth of their hearts to one another. And, we ask the Spirit of the West to bless them with the willingness to be open to the changes of life, and to be blessed with the deep commitment of the lake, the swift excitement of the river, and the enduring passion of the sea."

Kensi stepped closer to him when the blessing ended, her eyes full of tears, as she squeezed his hands. Deeks felt a warmth throughout his body that he'd never felt before as he stared into the beautiful eyes of the woman he loved beyond all reason.

"Now you can speak what is in your hearts," Littleshield said softly.

"Deeks…Marty. I don't think there are words enough in the English language to tell you all that you mean to me," Kensi said. "But, I will try."

She paused to gather herself and then began to speak.

"In the beginning, I never wanted you as my partner. Now I can't imagine my life without you beside me. In the beginning, I thought your jokes were stupid. Now I can't imagine my life without the laughter you bring to it. In the beginning, I couldn't imagine loving a surfer with shaggy hair and a wiseass attitude. Now I wouldn't want you to look or be any other way. In the beginning, I thought you talked way too much…actually you still do. But now, I can't wait to hear your voice in the morning and find I can't go to sleep until you tell me goodnight. Marty Deeks…you are the love of my life. One I never could have imagined."

"Wow," Deeks whispered as he leaned in and kissed her, hot tears briefly blinding him. "That's a tough act to follow, Kens."

"I imagine you'll find the words," she said lightly, making everyone laugh.

"Here goes," he said, leaving the note in his pocket that he'd been scribbling on for days. "Kensi…I've called you by many names over the years. The first nickname I gave you was Fern, which I'm still fond of by the way. It got me in trouble, though. You didn't like it..."

"Do now," she said.

"Good to know, baby. To continue…There's been Kensilina, Sugarbear, Hon Bun, Kiki, and your favorite…My Sweet. She crushed my toe with her heel for that one folks. There have been many others depending on the circumstances, but there are a few that describe the way I feel about you. You are my Sunshine, and the Light of my Life. And to me you will always be Wonder Woman. However, the one that I get to call you from this day forward is Wifey. And that's makes me the happiest and most blessed man on the planet."

Jim Littleshield raised his hands above their heads and briefly spoke something in Arapaho. When he finished he motioned to George, who handed him a small beaded buckskin bag that looked very old.

"This pouch has been in our family since the 1870's. It belonged to an Arapaho woman named Red Bird. She married a white man named Atwood. They loved each other despite their differences and despite the forces against them. They were strong people just like you. Today I pass this keepsake on to you. It holds two rings that represent your devotion and faith in one another."

The old man poured the contents into his hand and held the rings out to them. Kensi picked up the ring she had found for him and placed it on his finger and Deeks took the one that matched her engagement ring and slid it onto her finger.

"May the Great Spirit bless this union," Littleshield said, and the place erupted with cheering and a standing ovation.

Deeks gently took her face in his hands and kissed her as her fingers threaded through his hair, both oblivious to the well-wishers around them.

"Hello, Mrs. Bleeks," he said softly.

"Shut up, Mr. Bleeks," she replied laughing before kissing him hard.

They were immediately surrounded by family and friends, and somehow separated as they greeted the well-wishers. He accepted all of the hugs and kisses, but he finally managed to find her and take her hand in his, pulling her toward the ocean. The guys and the Hawaiian shirt clad security brigade kept the guests back as Deeks and Kensi made their way down to the wave line just as the sun slid beneath the edge of the sea, spilling a golden glow across the horizon. As her veil floated around them they kissed each other, not breaking until an explosion overhead shocked them apart.

"What the hell was that?" Deeks asked, looking for danger until Kensi laughed and he saw another glittering burst above the sea.

"Nell told me Eric had a surprise," Kensi laughed.

Deeks pulled her close, kissing her gently as multicolored sparks cascaded down from the sky. It was the perfect ending to an amazing day.

"I love you to the moon and back, Mr. Marty Deeks Blye," she whispered, making him laugh softly.

"Fireworks went off in my head the first time I kissed you. Now it's happening for real. You will always be the light of my life, Mrs. Kensi Blye Deeks."

…

The End

…

 _Thanks for following this story for so long. I have appreciated everyone's comments, and a hearty shout out to the guest reviewers I had no way to respond to. I appreciated every kind word. Thank you all for caring about this story and it's characters. Until next time…Sweet Lu_


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